A Demonic Twist to the Damsel in Distress
by Bookaholic711
Summary: Post COG: Just when Jace and Clary are finally allowed to be together, Clary vanishes without a trace. Jace rushes to save her with nothing but his own pain to follow. He wonders if he can find her or if it is too late for the girl they all know and love.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Okay, that summary thing is way too short. Here is the **_**full**_** summary that I wanted to write. **

**Post COG- Clary and Jace are finally broken from their awkward brother/sister relationship and allowed to be together in the way they both wanted. But they aren't expecting tomorrow to hold more surprised. When something captures Clary without leaving a trace, Jace struggles to save her. Hindered by runes and airplane schedules, he wonders if he'll be able to save her in time. Or will it be too late for the Clary they all know and love?**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns all character and settings. Only the plot of this story belongs to me.**

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**Jace:**

I sighed and glanced quickly into the room. I knew there was no point to it; the Institute was empty except for myself.

It had been about two weeks since we'd returned from Idris. Although I missed my home country, missed its beauty and grace and lack mundanes, I was glad to be back in New York. New York was safe, and the war with Valentine was over, and Clary was no longer my sister.

On the topic of Clary, my heart clenched. I missed her. I hadn't seen her since our return. She had gone to make to mundane school with Simon, leaving me alone at the Institute.

So much had changed in the short time we had been in Idris. So many things that had seemed to facts of life were replaced with others. The fact that I was finally allowed to have Clary, that it wasn't weird for me to be in love with her. The fact that Alec and Magnus were officially going out, and no one was threatening to kill him for it, although Izzy teased him often. The fact that Jocelyn and Luke were living together, finally acknowledging that they loved each other. The fact that I was legally Jace Lightwood now. The sadder facts, like fact that Max was gone forever. The fact that the damage was done, and could never be repaired in Idris and in us all.

All the changes were confusing to me, and I'd taken to sneaking around the Institute, looking for a place where I wouldn't have to witness anyone's emotions; whether they be Mayris and Robert crying over Max or Alec and Magnus laughing at some joke together.

But there was no one here now, and I was free to do anything I'd like.

It was around 2:30 P.M., and everyone was out. Robert and Mayris were away for a few days visiting some Canadian Shadowhunters. Isabelle had taken advantage of the lack of her parents to grab a credit card and go shopping. Magnus had called earlier and Alec was now over at his house.

Bored, and yet thrilled that no one else was around, I wandered into the kitchen. Since our return, Mayrse had cooked every night, which meant that the fridge was full of her leftovers. I poked around, finally deciding on a delicious-looking soup. But soup made me think Isabelle's soup, and of Clary.

Before I could even begin to comprehend what I was doing, I had flown across the room and dialed Clary's home phone number.

"Hello?" a voice said. Luke.

"Um…" I stuttered, unsure of what to say. Sure, Luke knew that Clary and I liked each other, but we hadn't exactly mentioned anything to Jocelyn or Luke. Could I call and just expect the phone to be passed over?

"Who is this?"

"Jace." My name was out of my mouth before I had thought about it, and I instantly regretted it.

"Hello, Jace," Luke's voice was unsure, like he didn't really know what to say to me.

"Um… could I talk to Clary? Please."

"Uh, Jace? Clary is at school. But she should be home soon. I can have her call you then."

Right, school. I should have thought about it. But I guess sitting around all day had made me forget that at 2 o'clock on Monday Clary wouldn't be at home.

"Oh, okay. Thanks, Luke." There was a pregnant pause, and then Luke hung up. I sighed, knowing that it would be at least another half hour before Clary would call.

I sat down on a stool, lost in thought. I thought again about the time, in this very kitchen, that Isabelle was making soup. It had been obvious to me then that Simon loved Clary, but it had pissed me off. Even then, no one was allowed to love Clary like that but me.

I thought about her birthday, when I'd taken her up to the greenhouse and kissed her, almost accidentally. It had been one of the most amazing moments of my life. After that, nothing had really seemed the same anymore. Even after I discovered that during that whole time Simon had been asleep in her room, my feelings for her hadn't changed one iota.

I thought about when Valentine had told me that she was my sister. How I didn't want to believe it, because I loved her in such a different way.

I thought about the Seelie Court, when I'd had to kiss her to free her, and how she'd kissed me back, not because she had to, but because she could.

I thought about that time she'd told me that it sickened her to love me, and how much I wanted her to disappear, so that I could suffer in peace, without having to see her face all the time.

I thought about the time Taki's, where I'd promised her that I would just be her brother from then on, even though I couldn't stand to think of the pain that promise was going to bring in the future.

I thought about how I'd forbidden her to come to Idris, even though I could see that it was what she wanted more than anything in the world. It was wrong of me, but it was dangerous for her, dangerous for us all, and I couldn't have her there to distract me. Whenever she was around, I was an emotional wreck, and I had needed my wits about me in Idris.

I thought about how I'd screamed at her when she'd gone anyway. I'd told her that she was selfish and horrible, and I didn't want her around because all she did was mess things up. I was horrible to her, just horrible. I remembered how after that I thought she'd never love me again. But it was necessary, I'd thought to myself, she needed to go home, to safety.

And then I thought about how she's brought me back, how she could have asked for anything in the world from the Angel Raziel. She could have had riches or world peace or a mountain of chocolate, but she asked for me. How in that moment I felt so unbelievably and completely–

"JACE!" a voice shouted from across the Institute, startling me. Particularly since no one was supposed to be here.

"LISTEN UP, JACE." Isabelle yelled. "I KNOW YOU'VE BEEN AVOIDING US, BUT I'M IN A GOOD MOOD RIGHT NOW, AND I'M GOING TO COME TALK TO YOU WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT. SO COME OUT, OR I'M GOING TO HAVE TO COME FIND YOU."

I sighed. There went my afternoon of supposed peace. There was no point in going out to Isabelle, she'd find me in a minute anyway. I quickly put my dish in the sink, hiding it under a couple other rouge items, so that she wouldn't know I'd been eating. I was in the process of arranging my features into and innocent and expectant expression when the door burst open.

"AHA!" Isabelle said. "I knew you'd be here! Mom is not going to be thrilled when she finds out you've been eating before dinner."

Isabelle hadn't been kidding when she said she was in a good mood. I saw the huge smile on her face and groaned inwardly. She was going to try to make me talk. And there was only one possible thing she would want to talk about.

"So, how's Clary?"

I glanced evenly at her. She knew as well as I did that I hadn't seen Clary since we'd returned from Idris.

"Oh come on, Jace. You can't sit there and ignore me for forever."

_Oh yes, I can. Just you watch me. _

"Fine. Don't tell me anything. I'll just go ask Clary." And she walked over to the phone and dialed. I considered saving her the embarrassment of discovering Clary was still at school, but decided that she deserved it. Luke would probably just be more annoyed with her than he was with me.

If only the world were that fair.

"Hey Clary!" Isabelle said brightly into the phone. "So, I'm holding your boyfriend hostage trying to get him to tell me what's going on between you two, but he remains silent. What say you?

I froze. First of all, Clary was home, which was just utterly unfair no matter how you looked at it. Second, that was the first time I'd ever officially been called Clary's boyfriend. It was… weird. I mean, obviously I was. I loved her more than anything else in the world, but it just seemed like such a **normal** world. It was very mundane, and my feelings for Clary would never, ever, be mundane.

During my frozen moment, Clary had evidently responded and Isabelle was talking again.

"No, don't worry Clary. I've got him the kitchen so he won't starve to death. He's in very good condition and being treated well."

I listened as hard as I could, and maybe I imagined, but I though for a moment that I heard Clary laugh over the phone.

"So," Isabelle said, a grin on her face. "I'm sick of sitting around here with all these guys. I need some girl time. And you are so kindly going to give it to me. Come over. Now."

Clary said something.

"Then bring your stupid homework. You can do it while you're avoiding my questions. I really need to see you."

Clary spoke again.

"Good. See you soon."

I looked up, shocked.

"Did you just invite Clary over?" I asked, disbelief coloring my voice.

Isabelle looked at me levelly. "Of course I did, Jace. She's my friend, and that's what friends do."

I must have still looked surprised, because Isabelle kept talking. "Besides," she said, "don't you want to see her?"


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Another day, another chapter. This one is full of fluff. Yay, fluff! By this point you may be thinking something along to the lines of…**

"**Um, Bookaholic711? Your summary mentioned something along the lines of a **_**plot**_**?"**

**Well, yes. Yes it did. The plot approaches. Read on and discover it!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters and locations belong to Cassandra Clare.

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**Clary:**

I got in the cab and confidently told the driver where I was going. I'd left a note for my mom and Luke, telling them that I was going to the Institute to hang out with Izzy. Which, technically, was true. However, hopefully there would also be some "hanging out" with Jace, which would probably be a lot less approved of. I wasn't really sure what to tell my mom about Jace. I mean, how do you say that despite all her work to protect you, you fell love with a Shadowhunter, one raised, no less, by the very man she was trying to protect you from? That despite all her work to keep you safe, you'd fallen prey everything she most despised about her old life?

Exactly. You can't.

At this point, the cabbie was just pulling up outside the Institute.

"You sure you want out here, miss?"

I nodded anxiously and wait for him to stop the car.

"But there ain't nothin' here."

I lied quickly. "I'm doing a school project." I gestured to my backpack, full of the homework that Isabelle insisted I bring along.

The cabbie looked doubtful, all he could so of the Institute was ruins, but he stopped the car and let me out.

"Here, miss. At least take my card so that if there's nothing there, you can call me and I'll pick you up."

I looked suspiciously at the card, but took it anyway. He was just a mundane, after all. Otherwise he would have been able to see the Institute. I was just paranoid, he was a New York cab driver for Christ's sake. One of millions. There was nothing to be suspicious about.

I got carefully out of the cab and went up to the gates. For a minute, I just pretended to look around until I heard an engine roar, signaling that the taxi had driven off.

I looked up at the huge metal gates that would lead me into the church. The gargoles smiled at me as I spoke the words to grant me entry. The gates swung open and I walked through. I went to the building and climbed in the elevator. As it rose, I realized I was nervous. What would it be like to see Jace again after so long? But it would be okay, I convinced myself. The elevator doors opened, and I pushed the mesh aside. The Institute, and a very hyper Isabelle greeted me.

"Clary!" she yelled, tackling me in a hug. "God, I've missed you. What's been going on? What's that?" she looked at my backpack like it had personally offended her.

I laughed. "Nothing much has been happening, Izzy. And that is my backpack."

"Couldn't you at least have gotten a nice one? One that isn't so hideous?"

I sniffed; I liked my backpack. "No."

"Oh well, whatever. So, what's been going on with you and Jace?"

"Nothing," I said patiently. "Isabelle, you know we haven't seen each other since we left Idris."

"I know, but it's fun for me just to ask," Isabelle grinned. "And that's going to change in about two seconds."

She and I walked quickly out of the entrance hall and into the main hall of the Institute, where, I assumed, Jace would be waiting.

I looked up at the beautiful old ceiling, covered in mosaics, the wood paneled walls of the huge, long room, and waiting for Jace to arrive.

Isabelle, impatient Isabelle, stomped her foot. "Where is he?" she demanded.

"He decided that he didn't want Isabelle playing witness to his and Clary's reunion, insisting it turn into a very mushy love scene simply for her own amusement." Jace's voice traveled from a room off of the hallway. "Besides, he was having a very scintillating conversation with Church."

"What?" I said. "No comment about how devilishly handsome he is?" It was very unlike Jace to leave that out. I tried to ignore how fast my heart was beating, how my whole body was aching for him to come around the corner so that I could run into his arms. To feel his body against mine again, to be in the one place where I truly, truly belonged again.

"That was coming," Jace replied. "If you'd been patient enough to wait for it."

"Fine," Isabelle said. "I won't impose on your mushy love scene as long as you come out here _right now_."

And with that, Jace stepped out of one of the rooms and into the light of the hallway. He looked as perfect as always. His hair was ruffled as if he had been running his fingers through it in frustration, his eyes blazed with anticipation. He wore his signature short-sleeve shirt, and all the marks on his arms could be easily seen. His hands were in his pockets, and I knew one was still bandaged. Even after Jace had technically died, Alec had gone through a lot of trouble to make sure that no one had used an _iratze_ on Jace's hand. He was teaching him a lesson by making him heal like a mundane. Isabelle found it quite amusing. I looked at him, and tried to comprehend that he was mine. That I finally was allowed to have him, and that no one, could take that from me, at least for the time being.

Jace looked into my eyes and spoke under his breath. "Clary."

"Jace."

And it didn't matter if Isabelle wasn't requiring a mushy love scene, because she kind of got one anyway.

I ran straight into Jace's arms, which opened to accept me. I snuggled against his chest, and he brought his arms up, encircling me, making sure I couldn't go anywhere.

Everyone he touched it was like I had a thousand extra nerve endings. His heat burned into my skin, but it felt amazing. A hundred volts of electricity shot through my body where it connected with his. My entire being was hyper-aware of his closeness.

"I missed you," I whispered. I could feel his head come down and rest on top of mine, sending the electricity there, spiking euphoria through my brain.

"I missed you, too," he said. "I love you."

Those words, I knew, no matter how often he said them, would always send a chill through my body. "I love you.

"Excuse me!" Isabelle yelled. "If I remember correctly, I invited Clary over, and therefore I get to see her first!"

Jace rested his chin on the top of my head, obviously looking at Isabelle. When he spoke, I felt his jaw move again my head. "Isabelle Lightwood," he said, "Moment Spoiler. A nice title. But I thought you wanted a mushy love scene?"

"Well, I changed my mind." Izzy told him. "I wa- no, I _need_ to talk to Clary."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Yet another fluffy chapter. Yes, I promise. Plot soon. But, come on, you can never have to much Jace and Clary fluff. It just isn't freaking possible. **

**I'd just like to say a HUGE thank you to my 4 reviewers. **_**Quiet Girl Blue**_**, **_**somecrazyshit.x, immortalmessanger,**_** and **_**magic noctum**_**, you guys are awesome. I'm writing this for you, guys. Remember that. **

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: Oh, wow, do we really need to go over this again? Characters and locations belong to Cassandra Clare. Including Isabelle's impeccably messy bedroom. That never fails to make me laugh. It just fits her personality so well! Don't you agree?  
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**Jace:**

That first moment I saw her, I regretted hiding around the corner. I regretted anything I'd ever done that cut into my time with her. I wasn't aware of saying her name, or her running toward me, the next thing I knew she was in my arms.

And all I could think about what how I wanted her there forever. I held her close to me so she could never escape. Automatically, my head fell down onto her's, and I buried my face in her hair. She spoke.

"I missed you."

Saying I missed her didn't even really seem to _comprehend_ the feeling. It was like some part of me had subconsciously been missing, and now that it was back its absence stood out like a glaring hole.

"I missed you, too," I said. But it didn't seem like enough. Yes, I had a little more than missed her. But the past one was done, and now it was time to focus on the present. "I love you."

"I love you."

Those words, **her** words, would never cease to amaze me. To send shivers down my spine and make my brain stop functioning. To make me realize again why life was worth living and why I would never again throw myself in front of death. To make me want to live just one more moment so that I could spend it with her.

But, of course, Isabelle had to ruin it.

Now I stood in the hallway by myself, having watched Isabelle practically rip Clary out of my arms and all but drag her down the hall and into her room, where the door slammed firmly, and I heard a lock click.

I stared at the back of the door for a moment before heading to my room. Church followed me into the pristinely clean space. I sat down at my desk. Leaning my cheek against my fist, I watched the empty wall in front of me. Church hopped up next to my other hand and I petted him absentmindedly. I just wanted to sit and think of Clary.

My mind wandered into the past.

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**Clary:**

Isabelle was dragging me. Painfully. By the arm. She shoved me onto her bed. I had to manuver mid-fall to avoid landing on a pair of high-heeled boots. Ouch. Izzy slammed the door shut flicked the lock violently. I had just enough time to arrange an innocent and mildly interested expression on my face before she spun around to face me, the Spanish Inquisition mirrored in her features.

"So," she said.

"So," I responded. She flopped down on the bed next to me, lying on her back, arms behind her head. Her black hair spread out like a dark halo, one that she definitely did not deserve.

"What's up?"

"Nothing much." My attempt at a smooth "nothing much" was betrayed by my voice, which contained heavy sarcasm.

"Oh yeah, after that scene, I'm just going to pretend nothing's going on."

I looked at Isabelle, feigning confusion. What on Earth did she want me to say? Did she want to hear every single detail about my relationship with Jace? Because even as the one in love, talking about that stuff could be crazy-boring to me.

"Oh Clary, you can be so _clueless_ sometimes." Isabelle looked at me, a pleading expression on her face, which was mixed with that expression you wore when you'd work super hard on a project and gotten a B. You were glad for the grade, but still disappointed, knowing something could have gone better.

"I can?"

"Yes! You honestly think nothing's going on when you and Jace just had that whole scene right in front of me?"

Hm… well, I guess it had been something of a mushy scene. But it wasn't like we had, you know, or anything.

"But… we didn't even kiss!"

"So?" Isabelle looked at me like I was stupid. "It isn't a kiss that's makes love scene."

"Yeah…" I replied. To be honest, I wasn't really sure what did make a love scene. I'd never been much for romance novels; mostly I just liked to draw couples. Standing and holding hands, arms wrapped around each other, even kissing, but they hadn't seemed all that emotional to me. Never having had a boyfriend before seriously put a cramp on my ability to draw love.

But that had sure changed now.

However, I was still a little confused as to what, exactly, Isabelle wanted to talk about. I supposed most girls would talk about simple things. _Did he kiss you yet_ and stuff. But Isabelle had been present, even played witness to most of that. What more could she possibly want to know?

In an attempt to fill the awkward silence that followed, I pulled out my binder and opened my book. Isabelle glared at it as though it had insulted her cooking.

"And that is…?" she asked, a murderous tone in her voice.

"My Chemistry homework."

"Oh _come on_ Clary. Who cares about your stupid homework? Don't you want to talk about Jace?"

Well, yeah. I guess I did. It was just going to make for an awkward conversation. I looked up, trying to figure out how to respond to that. Luckily, Isabelle saved me the trouble.

"Now I seem to have your attention. Girl, you better not go away for that long again. You were killing him."

"What do you mean?" I'd been killing Jace? I'd just been trying to catch up in school. Yes, I guess I hadn't seen him for two weeks, and it had been miserable for me. But at least I'd been preoccupied.

"He's been sulking around the place for the past week, avoiding everyone."

I thought about that a lot. It was very un-Jace to hide from people. He liked to be the center of attention. Which meant one of two things. Either he was mad at everyone, or he was very, very confused. If my feelings were any indication of his own, I would have to have guessed the second.

"And did you see his face when he saw you?"

Of all the stupid questions in all the world. Better to ask if I'd seen anything _but_ his face. His beautiful perfect face.

It seriously wasn't fair of him to be so perfect. It made us ordinary people feel extraordinarily plain.

"Yes." I said simply, skipping the mushy stuff. I didn't need Isabelle teasing me.

"God, you're like his weakness. I've never seen him look at anyone like that before. He's always so tough and haughty, like he's in control of the universe."

I laughed lightly. "I think he likes to think that he is."

"Well," Isabelle said, "I think it's good for him. Not to be sure about something, I mean. His ego could use a little deflating."

It was true, but I couldn't help but be a little bothered by something she'd said.

"Oh, I think he's pretty sure about me."

Isabelle laughed. "That's not what I meant, Clary."

"Then what did you mean?"

"Well, Jace is used to instant gratification. Whenever he wants something, or _someone_, all he has to do is reach out and grab it. But, you, you're more of a challenge. You don't just become putty in his grasp, you make him think. Because he doesn't just want you, but for the first time, he really, really wants you to want him back. And he's willing to dig past his sarcastic shell and show his soft side for you. He doesn't do that for anyone else."

My breathing hitched a little as I took in what she said. Did I really do that to Jace? Did I make him think about ways to please me? To get me to like him?

Isabelle laughed. "Don't look so shocked, Clary. Besides, it's good for him not to get everything he wants right away."

As I tried not to think about her comment, I realized that I wanted to hear more about Jace. I wanted to know about him as a child, as a sweet little kid just running around with Alec and Isabelle.

"Izzy?" I asked.

"Hmm?" she responded.

"Will you do me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Tell me about Jace as a child," I said. "Please. I want to know about him as a kid."

She laughed again. "Okay, Love-struck."

And she plunged into tales of her, Jace, and Alec as kids, and the hilarity that issued.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: I write long chapters,****  
You write long chapters,  
We all write long cha-apters…**

**Oh my god. Did I just quote Barney? Bad Sofi, bad. **

**Anyway, this chapter is mostly full of fluff, but the plot begins at the end. That sounds funny. :D**

**So, we have our thanks to reviewers section. **_**LOLhaily**_**, **_**TheSupremeRulerOfTheUniverse**_**, **_**Quiet Girl Blue**_**, and **_**rOcKeRfOoL**_** thank you for your reviews! Extra thanks to **_**Quiet Girl Blue**_** for this being your SECOND review. You also mentioned that you wanted to hear some of the stories that Isabelle was telling Clary. I purposely left those out because I didn't want to mess 'em up. I was worried that I was going to write them wrong, and besides, I think what happened before the series should be left to the reader's imagination, at least somewhat. However, since I believe a picture can be given, I've given you a little taste of what I thought happened in the pre-City of Bones life of Jace, Isabelle, and Alec. :D**

**Disclaimer: We've been over this already. I don't own anything. Thank you for your time. **

**Read on!**

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**Jace:**

I wasn't watching the clock, had no idea how much time had gone by. My thoughts had completely consumed me, and I was gone.

I was lost in the past, in things that had long since occurred. I was lost in a mixture of the three times of my life. For my life could easily be divided into three sections.

The first section was the most deluded, the one that confused me the most. The first section was my time growing up in Idris with Valentine, who I thought was Michael Wayland. That time was full of physical pain, and though I hadn't known it, a longing for love. Sure, Valentine had for all purposes loved me. He'd hugged me and given me presents and anything I could want. But he'd been abusive, and his adoration never lasted. It was always followed by a beating or a screamed lecture about what I'd done wrong. That was my time as Jonathon Wayland.

The second section was the most painful. The most empty. And yet, in some ways, the most fun. The second section was my life with the Lightwoods and Hodge at the Institute. The time growing up with Alec and Isabelle. When we'd played on the roof together and avoided Mayrse's wrath and hunted small demons. The time we'd trained and gotten our marks and learned to hunt. The time I'd had nightmares, but Mayrse and Robert had been there for me. The time I'd felt alone, and blind to the world, yet strangely able to feel only the bad things. That was my time as Jace Wayland.

The third section was the shortest, and yet the most eventful. It was also the most easily defined. There was a clear break. The third section began when I met Clary. It covered every second since she opened my eyes. Even the horror when I'd thought she was my sister fell easily into this category. In this time, I'd gone through three names, yet only one mattered. In this time, I'd been Jonathon Morgenstern, then Jace Herondale, and finally, as the defining matter in this time herself had named me, I was Jace Lightwood. And Jace Lightwood I would remain.

Suddenly, I was dragged out of my reverie by a sound. It was the peal of laughter. I recognized Isabelle's laugh, loud and rambunctious, yet not obnoxious. Clary's laugh accompanied it, a soft, sound. Like church-bells, gentle on the ears, yet beautiful to behold. They were walking down the hallway by the sound of it, and soon their laughter no longer reached my ears.

I tried to jump back on my train of thought, but this time I just felt like a mushy idiot. I gave up.

Sighing, I got up and stood by the window. I wanted to talk to Clary, but I knew that even if I could find her, Isabelle would just unceremoniously kick me out of the room, insisting it was she who had invited Clary over, and therefore she reserved first dibs on her time.

Suddenly, I felt of moping around. For weeks I had just sat, avoiding all activity. I wanted to _do_ something. I wandered out of my room. Down the hall I went, looking at the windows, noticing that winter had snuck up on me while I wasn't paying attention. Although it wasn't rain, frost covered the ground, and my breath fogged up the windows.

I found myself heading for the training room, which made sense. I always went there when I was feeling restless. I stood in the middle of the room, wondering what to practice with. Instinctively, I picked up a couple of throwing knives. I positioned myself in the middle of the room, aiming toward the target. After taking a moment to perfect my stance, I cocked my arm back and with a slight movement and a flick of my wrist, the knife when sailing. It flew across the room and right into bulls-eye. Quickly, I let another fly, and another.

It felt amazing. I retrieved my knives and was settling my stance again when something told me to turn around.

And there she was, standing in the doorway. Watching me. A look of wonder and admiration lit up her features.

She smiled at me. "Hey Jace."

God, she was beautiful. It was really not fair of her to be so beautiful. In spite of everything we'd been through together, my stomach still did flips at the sound of my name on her lips.

"Hey," I replied, a little breathless.

There was a pause as she waited for me to say more. I knew I should have said something. Even just her name, or just asked her what was up or _something_. But I was oddly silent, my mind occupied by just staring at her, taking in her beauty.

"So, uh…" she said. "What's up?"

It was clear she thought this was a lame attempt at conversation, and in truth, it was. But being as I was totally tongue tied, I was hardly one to speak. No pun intended. Or actually, I take that back. Pun intended.

I stood there awkwardly, then spoke. "Um… not much."

I realized that despite how much I loved her, I really didn't know her that well. But what was I _doing_? This was _Clary_. _My_ Clary. Why was I just standing here like some kind of moron?

I walked over to her and took her hand in both of mine.

"So, what were you doing with Isabelle?"

She laughed. "Izzy was telling me about you when you were younger, before I knew you."

I groaned. "Surely some of it must have been good."

"Oh, I don't know," she told me, a smile playing at her lips. "Some of it showed you in a pretty bad light, if there was light at all."

I tried not to think about what Isabelle would have told her. I mean, surely Clary wouldn't have wanted to hear all the stories of all of my past girlfriends, most of whom were Downworlders that I didn't actually care about at all. And yet, that was about all I could see Isabelle telling her about. She wouldn't have spent ages telling Clary about all the games we used to play, or the times that Alec and I got in trouble for sneaking off in New York to duel with Downworlders. The fun we'd had putting off work Hodge had given us or standing on the roof pretending we could fly.

"Uh-oh." I said. "Seems like I'm in trouble."

Clary grinned at me. "Only if you keep zoning out on me." And she put her arms around my neck and kissed me.

As usual, or should I say as always, for this would never be **usual** to me, my brain completely shorted out. My arms wrapped automatically around her waist, hugging her closer to me, and I was in bliss.

After a minute, far too soon for me, Clary pulled away. Almost instinctively, I asked, "What's wrong?"

She glanced at me, her eyes sparkling. "Nothing, Jace. My phone's ringing. Hang on."

She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cell phone, looked at the number and flipped it open. "Hi, Mom."

Jocelyn. For weeks, I'd thought she was my mother. Now, I was slightly afraid of her. I was everything she hated, everything she'd tried to save Clary from. She couldn't be too thrilled about me, and I had no doubts about her ability to keep Clary from seeing me.

Still, Clary was still here, and I could use this to my advantage. She stood with her back to me, but I wrapped my arms around her waist. She leaned against me, tucking her head under my chin and relaxing against my chest.

"I'm at the Institute. I left you a note."

So Jocelyn was worried about her. To be expected. After all, they'd been apart for weeks, and in that time Clary's life had totally changed more than once, and not always for the better.

"Oh, no it was at the house. You wouldn't have gotten it."

There was a brief silence while Jocelyn talked. I hugged my arms closer around Clary, knowing that in a minute her mother would ask her to come home, and I would lose her again.

"Oh, I'm just hanging out with Isabelle and Jace. But if you want me to come home…Okay, then. Yeah, I guess if Luke's already cooked… Yeah, I'll come… No, it's fine; I'll take a cab… Okay, see you soon… Love you too, bye."

She hung up and turned around to face me.

"I'd better go, Jace."

I sighed. "But we haven't spent time together in so long."

"This weekend. I promise."

I looked at her. "The whole weekend?"

She laughed. "Well, I think my mom's going insist I sleep at home. But all day Saturday and Sunday if you want."

"But it's only Monday." I pouted, fake whining. It was true that we hadn't seen each other in forever, but I seriously needed to get a grip on my emotions. I couldn't break my usual etiquette like this every time I saw her.

"I know, Jace. But I'll call you, okay? Pick up."

"Are you suggesting that I intentionally ignore your calls?" I asked, false hurt in my voice.

She laughed, meaning a mission accomplished for me. I reached down and took her face in my hands. I lowered my head to hers, resting my forehead on her own.

"Love you, Clary," I said, before gentling brushing my lips against hers. She reached up, tangling her fingers in my hair, and crushed my face with hers.

I pulled away after a minute, laughing slightly. "You'd better go," I said, "your mom will worry, and I don't need her on my bad side."

Clary sighed sadly. "Love you, Jace."

"I love you. See this weekend."

"See you." And with a final blown kiss, she left.

I stood there for a minute, and then Isabelle came into the room.

"Where's Clary?" she insisted immediately.

"She went home."

"I didn't even get to say goodbye!"

I laughed. "Oh, there's no need to look like such a deflated balloon, Isabelle."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please, Jace. The only balloon around here is your ego, and it apparently takes a lot more than a stolen goodbye to puncture it."

About an hour later, Isabelle, Alec, and I were laughing over Chinese take-out. Alec was practically luminescent after his day with Magnus. At one point he was laughing so hard I had to say something.

"Ah, Alec. Your happy glow, it's blinding me."

The phone rang, and I ducked a chopstick that had been thrown in my direction as I stood up to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Jace?" the voice sounded panicked.

"Yes, who is this?"

"It's Jocelyn."

"Oh… um, hi." Why could Jocelyn be calling? Unless something had gone wrong with Clary… my body instantly filled with panic. But no, surely she would be fine. It was just a cab ride home. Not even Clary could get in trouble just taking a cab back to her house.

"I was just wondering, is Clary still there?"

"No, she left over an hour ago. She told me you asked her to come home."

"What?"

"You called and asked her to come home. She left." Oh, crap. Oh, crap, crap, crap.

"Oh no, oh no."

"What is it, Jocelyn?"

"I never called her, Jace. She's not answering her phone. And she's not home."

Unable to take anymore, I hung up the phone. Turning around, I was shocked to find Alec and Isabelle still smiling and laughing. My expression was so ashen that panic and surprise filled their faces.

"What's wrong?" Alec asked. "Who was that?"

"It was Jocelyn," I said, my voice sounded dead, even to me. "It's Clary. She's missing."


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: PLOT! Oh my god! *Screams***

**Yes, that's correct people. The plot of this story has officially started. This chapter is a little short, but it's sometime of a transition between fluff and actual plot. See, I told you it was coming. Didn't I?  
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**Thank you to **_**Ellenfp, Marissa Cullen, Leopardeyes, magic noctum, LOLhaily, **_**and**_** TheSupremeRulerOfTheUniverse **_**for your FANtastic reviews. (Get it? FANtastic? Haha, just a little word play there. My brother and I are seriously addicted to word play.) **

**Disclaimer: Oh my god, people. Seriously? Seriously? Okay, here were go again. I am not Cassandra Clare, who happens to own all of this. Except Clary's demented dreams, which come from my twisted imagination. **** Please don't sue me. **

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**Clary:**

I was surrounded by darkness. Something bound my hands, and then leaned down to bind my feet. I felt its hot breath on my legs. Its voice was quiet, but I could hear it.

_Smells so delicious, but I must not. She is for master, and master alone. Ohh… must not eat. Must not…_

I felt something, something like a nose, run up my arm. I tried to scream, but realized I was gagged. Something hard hit my head and I fell like a rock. I dreamed.

It was light, very very bright. I looked around and realized that I was on the shores of Lake Lyn, in Idris. Looking out over the perfect water, I felt relaxed. I lay down and glanced at the rest of the scene. No one else was there. That is, at least, until I heard footsteps behind me. I turned.

It was Jace. In the bright sunlight, he looked beautiful. He smiled at me, and began to sit.

The moment his hand touched the ground, he began to change. His head lengthened, it was long and thing, like the head of a wolf. His skin turned a dark, deep red. His body shrunk until it was half of its usual size. The skin began to change, a lighter red than his head, but still the deep shade. And suddenly he stood on all fours in front me.

He was a demon.

I screamed. I screamed for all I was worth. Jace, no, I wouldn't think of it as Jace, the demon, growled at me. His – _it's_ teeth were yellow and foul, huge and pointed. It growled again and came closer.

_Clarissa Morgenstern… we've waited far too long for you._

I looked at it. It had paused as if waiting for me to speak. "Wh- wh- what?"

_You have caused us a great loss, and in turn we are left with two choices._

I swallowed. I tried to make my voice confident. "I don't know what you're talking about."

_Of course you don't. You didn't realize the price the demons paid when Valentine was lost. You killed him, of course. He should have seen that coming. _

"I didn't kill him. The Angel-"

_The Angel, the Angel. The Angel could not act without reason. He rose above the very lake, but he could not kill unless there was one who desired it. _

"It could have been someone else, hundreds wanted him dead."

_None were close enough girl. No one was at the lake but you and Valentine. _

Jace. Jace was there. But I wouldn't say that. I couldn't. Because then they would go after Jace. And I would rather die a thousand times myself than have them kill Jace. That would not be allowed to happen.

_Ah… the boy, of course. But you may recall, he was dead. Dead upon this very shore, where he should have remained._

"I brought him back." Why was I saying this? To protect him? To make sure that they knew that it was NOT Jace who'd "killed" Valentine? That it was undoubtedly me?

_You should have left him, you should have left him where he lay. Valentine would have wished it. _

And suddenly, as quickly as it had happened, the demon turned back into Jace. Only he didn't look friendly anymore.

"I was dead. Dead and gone. It was only you. Which leaves us with two choices."

It was killing me. Jace looked horrible, evil. As if he really had demon blood, and the way he said "us" chilled my bones. He was lumping himself in with the demons, and I knew one of the choices. They would kill me. But what was the other?  
"As you have already guessed, one choice is to kill you."

How were they reading my thoughts? That was not good, they had almost unlimited information from my mind, information they could not have. Information about my mother, my friends, information about Jace. The _real_ Jace.

"The other choice is for you to take Valentine's place, and wield the sword yourself.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: It's up, it's up!**

**In case you can't tell by its length, I spent a lot of time on this chapter. And I'm quite proud of it. So please, not too many flames in the reviews. Although if you have a suggestion or found a problem, please don't hesitate to let me know. I love **_**useful**_** criticism. **

**So…** _**Quiet Girl Blue, ellenfp, Marissa Cullen, Starr33, Leopardeyes, -LifeLessWords, aiscat93,**_** and**_** StarofCalamity**_**, thank you guys! As always, huge thanks to all my reviewers and anyone else who reads the story. Keep those reviews coming! Reviews help in all my writing and I love tips on my style or mistakes I've made. **

**Hope you guys enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: I'm not even going to say it. Seriously.

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**Jace:**

To say I was upset would have been the understatement of the century. Even to say I was delusional with anger and worry wouldn't even have been close. I was, truly, suicidal. I was willing to die to get her back. Dying would have been preferable, because if living meant life without Clary, I didn't want it.

"Jace!" a voice snapped loudly. "Jace, you _need_ to snap out of this!" There was loud pounding on my door, which I ignored.

I had locked myself in my room. I needed time to get a handle of this. Needless to say, I was not doing a good job. I was lying spread-eagle on my bed, staring at the ceiling without seeing it, wishing to die. And all I even knew was that Clary was missing.

I didn't know what to do. All throughout my life, whenever there had been a problem, it had been an easy fix. I just had to fight something, and as long as I killed it, my problem was solved. I couldn't do that this time.

So far, at least, there was nothing to kill. There was nothing to do.

"JACE!" the voice screamed. "If you do not open this door right now I'm going to go get a knife and cut it off its hinges."

I ignored it.

How the hell was I going to find Clary? Because I obviously had to. There was no choice, I needed her back. I needed her, period. This moment proved that.

"JACE LIGHTWOOD!" it was Alec's voice this time. "Jace, please, let us in."

"Go away!" I yelled. "I need sometime to think."

"Think?" Alec said, sounding disbelieving. "Since when do _you_ need to _think_? Come the hell out so we can talk about what we're going to _do_!"

"No! I want to be alone! Just go away, can't you?"

Alec sighed loudly. "I'm sure Jocelyn wouldn't have told you if she had known you couldn't handle it."

"Handle it? I'm handling it!" I screeched, obviously not handling it.

"No, you're not." At this point the door flung open. I stared at Alec in surprise.

"How the hell did you get in here?"

"You don't want to know," he said, carefully avoiding my eyes.

"Yes, I do. Maybe then next time I can keep you from coming in."

Alec looked at me. "Jace…"

"What?" my voice was sharper than I'd intended.

"Look, we need to do something. We can't exactly do much when Clary's boyfriend, the best fighter in this part of the world, is locked in his room 'thinking'."

I sucked in a breath. Alec was right, of course. About not being able to do anything. He was lying more than a little about me being the best fighter in this part of the world.

"Fine," I said. "So tell me, Mr. Genius, what, exactly, is it that we can do?"

If Alec was surprised that I was cooperating, he didn't show it. It might have been because he heard the sarcasm dripping in my voice.

"Well, who would want to take Clary?"

"Valentine." The name slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

"Jace, he's dead…"

But something had just clicked in my head.

"He wasn't before, even though everyone thought he was. The only person who witnessed his death was Clary…"

"So what?" Alec asked. He looked angry. "Are you going to say that your own girlfriend is in a league with Valentine?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Clary was half crazed with pain, she could have seen wrong."

"Jace, you're insane." Alec studied me with careful eyes. "Look, I know why you're doing this. You want Valentine to be behind this. You want him to have taken Clary because you want to kill him. You want to kill him for all that he's inflicted on you. But he's _dead_, Jace. He's not coming back. We can't waste time worrying about him when Clary could be dead any second."

I winced internally. Why? Because Alec was right. I did want Valentine to have Clary. Not because I wanted to kill him, but because he wouldn't hurt her. And someone else could.

"Alec…"

"What?"

"I can't handle this. I can't lose her."

Normally, a comment like this would have made Alec wince, but not anymore. He was done with that. Thank god. I spent years trying not to notice all the little signs that he was in love with me. I was still thanking the heavens that he wasn't anymore.

Surprisingly, instead of wincing, Alec exploded.

"Then get the hell _up_, Jace! You're not going to save her lying in bed staring at the goddamn ceiling! Get _up_ and _do_ something about it!"

I stared. Alec had never yelled at me before. Despite all the times I'd just exploded on him, he had never, ever screamed back at me. I expected him to suddenly realize what he'd done and start apologizing like crazy. But, it was a weird day, and that did not happen.

After a moment I cleared my throat.

"So, uh… what are we doing?"

"You are going to get your butt off of the bed and go to the library. I am going to find the vampire."

And Alec took off without another word. I looked around for a minute, wondering what I should do. He'd told me to go the library, but to what purpose? And why was he going to find Simon? It wasn't like Simon knew anything. Or did he? Was he involved? What if he had taken Clary, trying to steal her away from me?

I sounded like a paranoid old man. Sheesh. Simon went to school with Clary, and he saw her more than I did. Besides, he'd given me the best friend stamp of approval. He wasn't allowed to that anymore. I was being overly concerned about something that shouldn't even be an issue. I should just get up and go the library like a good boy.

So why did I not move? Because I'm stubborn as hell, and I don't like being told what to do. So I sat a little while. And then I got bored. And then I got up and stretched my legs. And then I walked out of my room. And then I walked down the hallway. And into the infirmary. And found it empty. And I left again. And I walked around. And I lost track of where I was going. And suddenly I found myself in the library.

Face to face with Jocelyn Fray.

I started. "Jocelyn!"

She smiled meekly. "Hello Jace."

"When did you get here?"

She glanced around the room, her eyes finally resting on the grandfather clock in the corner. That clock had always been a favorite of mine. It was old, made out of an ancient oak. One piece of wood had been used to make the whole thing; it was shaped into a rectangle and then hollowed out. The varnish on it made it a deep brown, the color the tree naturally was. The clock mechanism was made out of brass, beautiful brass that Mayrse keep perfectly polished. In my mind, I could see Hodge bending over it, carefully twisting the hands to set it back for daylight savings. I could see Alec, Isabelle and myself play with the chains, winding the clock so that it would continue to watch. Behind us, Max watched with envy, only maybe 6 years old, wishing he too could wind the clock.

"Maybe an hour or so ago."

"And you've just been sitting here?" Crap. This was not going to end well. But it definitely hadn't been an hour since Alec ordered me to come here. Maybe 20 or 30 minutes.

"Of course not, Jace. I was speaking to Isabelle. But she went to go look for you."

Whew. That was close. At least I was somewhat off the hook.

Muttering issued from the hallway. "Stupid cat, I told you to take me to Jace, not back to the library. So far you've just led me all around the Institute."

Following me. Isabelle had asked Church to find me, which was pretty hard considering I hadn't stayed in one place for more than two seconds.

"It's not his fault," I called to her. "I've gone around pretty much the entire Institute."

Isabelle walked into the room and glared at me furiously. She looked very frightening. She wasn't dressed in Shadowhunter clothes, but in dark-washed skinny jeans and a tight-fitting red tank-top. She wore knee-high black leather boots and her golden whip was curled around her wrist. She looked like she was going to the mall, but expecting to meet several rapists along the way. From her face, you would have thought I was one of the rapists.

"What?" she asked me, voice sarcastic and skeptical. "Did you forget where the library was or something?"

I rolled my eyes. "I went for a walk."

"Well, all Jace's mysterious new walking aside," Alec said, entering the room, "I didn't find out anything."

Jocelyn's face fell. "You didn't find Simon?"

"Oh, I found him, all right," Alec replied. "He just didn't know anything. But he told me to keep him posted and let him know if there was anything he could do to help."

Alec paused for a second, and then added, as if an after thought, "And he's distraught. But that's kind of beside the point."

Isabelle looked positively murderously at both Alec and me, as if she thought we weren't taking this seriously enough. As if to us, it was a total joke. Then she turned to Jocelyn. "So did you hear anything new?" The "while I was gone looking for the idiotic moron we call Jace" was implied.

Jocelyn nodded. "I received a call."

Isabelle looked stunned. "From whom?"

"I don't know. They just told me we had two options, stop all Shadowhunters from hunting demons, or watch Clary die before our eyes."


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: I am a retarded monkey.**

**So I've been going through editing all the author's notes, making them so they aren't about when I'm going to update again and just copying and pasting the rest of the note into the new one. But for this one, I accidentally replaced this chapter with the chapter before, which means I lost my author's note. So I don't know how reviewed for this chapter, but that's for reviewing. **

**I hope you enjoy it. And that the following sentence is not truly necessary.**

**Disclaimer: Hello, my name is not Cassandra Clare. Nice to meet you.

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**Clary:**

Somehow I knew I was conscious again. My eyes were not open, yet I could see. My body was floating in mid-air. I could feel my hair, stick and sweaty, splayed out against my back, but there was nothing beneath me. My face had a light sheen of sweat on it, and my clothes stuck to my body.

What was going on? Where was I? And what was that dream? What had happened to Jace? Jace. Oh my god, Jace. He must have been freaking out. He could not come here. It didn't matter where here was, if Jace came he would only have to die along with me.

Stress weighed on my mind. It felt like a physical pressure on my shoulders, like the burden of Atlas, who carried the world. I felt it push on my shoulders, contracting my chest. I couldn't breathe. Yet somehow I managed to cry. No oxygen entered my lungs but I cried and cried, feeling the blackness slipping on from a lack of air.

Darkness fuzzed at the edges of my vision. It crept in slowly, taking my peripheral vision first, and then slowly making smaller circles inward. Finally, when all I could see was a tiny dot, I blacked out. But not before I saw someone entire the room. Someone in the form of a young man with light blond hair.

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The dream returned. Once again, I sat on the shores of Lake Lyn. This time Jace was sitting beside me, but he was covered in dirt. I turned to him. "Jace!"

"Clary." He spoke calmly, but his eyes were wide with anticipation. Instinctively, I threw my arms around his neck.

"What happened to you?" I asked. Because although I recognized him instantly as Jace, he did not look like _my_ Jace. His hair was dark, but not with mud and dirt as I'd originally thought, it was simply darker than his normal shade, as if he'd dyed it. His features were distorted, his eyes too round, his nose too long, his mouth set too deep in his face. It was as if someone had painted him from a description, or a memory.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, a familiar, but slightly off, sarcastic expression landing on his face.

"Never mind," I told him quickly. "It was nothing."

"Clary…" he sounded hesitant, "you know you can tell me anything, right?"

I thought back to a time when Simon had said almost those exact same words to me, right after I met Jace. For some reason, that memory shook me, as if something weird was going on. Something wrong.

But there was nothing wrong. It was me and Jace sitting on a beach. What was wrong with me?

Jace, who still just looked _wrong_ to me, leaned over. He whispered, "I missed you," and then he began to kiss me.

And that's when things went weird.

As soon as Jace's lips touched mine, I felt him change. My eyes closed, but I was aware that the skin of his shoulders had turned from soft and warm to rock hard and cool. It felt almost like scales. I broke off the kiss and shoved him away, afraid to look at him.

"Clary?" the voice was still Jace's. It was soft and confused, and so, so tempting. Without wanting to, I turned and looked into his face. But it wasn't Jace.

I screamed. I screamed for all I was worth. Because there, where Jace had been only moments before was a Raverner.

The sight of the first demon I'd ever killed cut deep into me. But it was a thousand times worse when it spoke.

"Clary? Clary, what's wrong?"

Jace's voice was coming from the Raverner. It was Jace.

"Get away from me!"

"Clary? What's going on?" The Raverner reached a paw out as if to touch my shoulder.

"Stop!" I screeched. I scrambled away from him and to my feet. "Stop it!"

The Raverner looked at me, and I could have sworn he was glaring. But still Jace's voice poured out of its mouth.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU? WHY ARE YOU BEING LIKE THIS?" he yelled. His voice was harsh.

"Jace, look at yourself. Look at what you _are_!"

"I'm ME! WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?"

This dream was too vivid. I couldn't handle it. I was convinced it was actually happening, and if there was one thing I couldn't stand, it was Jace yelling at me like that.

"Jace, please! Please, just look! Look at what you've become."

"I've always been like this, Clary." He was no longer screaming, but his voice was hard, as if I were some stranger on the street. "This is what I look like on the inside. And it's a relief to finally show it. But you won't show me what you look like inside."

"No, Jace, you're not a demon…"

"Yes, I am, Clary. And so are you."

And then I began to transform. My body grew and grew and grew. I felt pain beyond pain. It was as if someone was ripping off every layer of skin and then super-gluing it back on. And from the way it looked, they were gluing it back on inside out. I was first pink, and then red. Then I looked down at myself, and some part of me knew what I was.

On the inside, I was Greater Demon.

"NO!" I screamed. "NO THERE MUST BE SOME MISTAKE."

"There is no mistake, Clary," Jace's voice coming from the Raverner seemed normal to me now, as if that had always been what Jace was like. "This is what you are. Your father was a Greater Demon, and so are you. And you've been chosen to lead us in his stead. You have no choice, Clary, not even death, because this part of you cannot die. You have no choice but to join us, and take the form of your true self, so you can lead us for eternity." 


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: I am still a retarded monkey. Again, I lost my reviewers. But thanks guys!**

**This chapter is dedicated to Aydin Selak. He was a Senior at my High School and he died this weekend. If you live anywhere in the LA area you probably heard about it. Anyway, I didn't know him, but I still feel very sorry for his loss, and I dedicate this chapter to his memory. Rest in peace.**

**Disclaimer: God. No. I refuse. I won't do it.

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**Jace:**

I wish I could say I'd said something strong, something witty, something JACE. But I didn't. I was completely speechless. I think I may have passed out. But thankfully, I didn't fall out of chair, so no one noticed. I was ready to stand up and rip something apart, I was so angry. I wanted to destroy everything, and then kill myself. Kill myself in violent ways.

Isabelle, who never cried, burst into hard, heart-breaking sobs. She put her head on the table and cried. Jocelyn put her arm around her. Alec held it together though.

"Well," he said, "that just gives us a bit of a tighter schedule."

I glanced at him. "Alec, what the hell are you babbling about?"

"We're going to go find her of course," he said it like it should be obvious, like it should have been perfectly clear all along.

"And how, Mr. Genius, do you intend to do that?"

"With a tracking spell."

Jocelyn spoke up. "So you were able to contact Magnus?"

Alec's face fell a little, and his voice was dismayed. "No. He left a note."

Instinctively, I reached for the note. Alec pulled it away from me, a ghost of horror on his face.

"It's addressed to me."

My alert levels went up by another 20%. "What, is it all lovey-dovey or something?"

"Shut up." Alec said shortly.

Jocelyn glared at us both. "Enough of that. What did he say?"

"He was attacked by demons. He fled to Idris, where he's been offered protection. We're on our own."

Jocelyn's face fell very noticeably. "What are we going to do now?"

Alec perked up again. "Oh, it's no problem, Jace knows how to do a tracking spell."

_I do???_ Oh yeah, huh. I did. I'd just have to remember the runes… it shouldn't be hard. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and began to sketch them.

Jocelyn looked pleased, and smiled in my direction. "I'll just have to run home and get something of Clary's."

"Can't we just use Jace?"

Isabelle, who'd still been crying, cracked up. I rolled my eyes at Alec.

"No," I responded, "We cannot use Jace, thank you very much."

I glanced at Jocelyn and saw a look of horror fade off of her face just a second too late to escape my notice. Alec was going to pay for this one.

Isabelle laughed again. "But you don't have to go home, Jocelyn. Clary's backpack is still here. It must be around somewhere."

Alec nodded. "Probably in the room she stayed in or your room, Izzy."

Crap. Crap crap crap. I knew exactly where that backpack was. It was in my room. Which was not going to go over well. I'd put it there in the hope that one time Clary would go looking for it and be forced to come into my room, since we never got any time together.

Isabelle interrupted my thoughts. "I'll check my room, Alec why don't you check Clary's?"

"I'll go look around some other rooms too," I said. "It might be in the Infirmary or something."

Jocelyn nodded. "I'm going to call Luke. And Simon."

As us kids walked out into the hallway, I gave Alec a swift, hard punch on the arm. He glared at me.

"What was that for?"

"The object is not to get her to hate me, stupid."

"Hate you?" Alec laughed. "I think we might be too late for that Jace."

"What do you mean?"

Alec laughed again and flashed me an unholy grin. "That's for me to know, and you not to find out."

We walked our separate ways, and I walked the practiced path back to my room. I opened the door slowly, carefully, as if I was expecting something to be hiding behind the door. But it was just my room, the same as always.

Most of the time, when I looked at my room my eyes just glazed over it, but today I really _saw_ it. I saw my plain wooden bed with the stark white sheets pulled tightly over it. Beside it stood a bedside table that was empty except for a small, black analog clock. My dresser was to the side. Jacket's hung in the top portion, while drawers full of clothes lay below. All the drawers were fully closed, and if anyone opened them they would find everything perfectly folded without a single wrinkle in it. The doors of the top were open all the way, and all my jackets hung perfectly on the hangers and a perfect line, all the exact same difference away from each other. The walls were plain and white, the floor a polished wood. A bookshelf was pushed against the back wall, bursting at the seams with all my favorites. As I looked around the room, I realized how bland it looked. It looked unoccupied. Like the person who lived in it never really spent any time there. But there was no time to think about that right now.

I lay down on the cold, wooden floor. Pulling up the comforter of the bed, I reached for the only thing that was underneath it. From underneath my bed, I pulled out Clary's green backpack. It was full of her stuff, her clothes, her brush, her sketchbook. I felt like I was carrying a little of Clary with me. I slid the backpack over my shoulders and wandered out of the room. I hurried to the weapons room, which I figured was my best alibi. The Infirmary was too far away for me to get there unnoticed, and I'd already mentioned it, which would be too suspicious. I quickly found an inconspicuous corner behind a sword rack, and placed Clary's backpack there. Then I went back to a farther corner and began to pretend I was looking for her backpack.

Alec arrived at the opportune moment. I was only one rack away from Clary's backpack when he came in.

"I already looked here, Jace, it's not here."

As if on cue, I held up her backpack. "Didn't look very well, did you?'

Alec stared. "I specifically remember looking behind that rack."

I gave him a skeptical look. "Maybe we should get your eyes checked."

"And maybe you should shut up."

The voice was Isabelle's and it came from the doorway. Alec and I both looked at her, startled and confused.

"What?" Alec asked.

"Oh come on, Alec," Isabelle said with exaggerated patience. "The backpack wasn't in here obviously. Jace brought it here. And I don't even want to know from where."

I was positive I was blushing, but I still attempted to keep face. "You're just jealous."

"Oh yeah, right." She said with a roll of her eyes. "Let's just go back so we can get this show on the road."

I was in a surprisingly good mood. Probably because I was convinced this was going to work, and therefore we would get her back. Whoever had her assumed that we wouldn't be able to do a tracking spell without Magnus, but we could, so it wasn't a big deal. We'd get her back.

As we were walking towards the library we ran into Jocelyn, walking the other way.

"Luke and Simon are outside," she told us.

Isabelle, Alec and I made a u-turn and began to walk with her.

"So, you can really do a tracking spell, Jace?"

I nodded. "That's how I found Jonathon."

Jocelyn looked impressed. "I think you're the first person I've ever known who could do that without Clave training…" her voice trailed off as we reached the top of the elevator. Luke and Simon stood waiting for us. Simon wore all black, kind of like a real vampire. It made his skin look even whiter. Luke, in contrast, was wearing a light blue flannel shirt, and for some reason next to Simon he looked so _alive_.

I glanced around. Again, winter showed through. It was cold out, most of us were wearing heavy coats. There was no rain, but the sky grey with clouds. The ground was hard-packed, and, I couldn't help but notice, perfect for fighting.

Jocelyn instantly walked over and put her hand in Luke's. She looked a little better now that he was here. Simon walked over to us as well.

"You couldn't contact Magnus?"

Alec shook his head. "He was attacked."

Let's say Alec almost made it. His voice cracked on the last syllable of his short sentence and his emotion showed through.

"Wow," Simon said. "That's like a movie or something…"

Jocelyn glanced over at us. "Come on, let's not waste any more time."

Carefully, I laid the backpack down on the hard-packed ground. I took my stele out of my pocket and set it to the pack. I drew the first rune. It was a loopy, almost like swirl. The second was much straighter, like a box. I drew them like Magnus had taught me. Intertwined, one inside of the other. The straight one represented my sight, the loopy one the one that I was seeking. I closed my eyes and whispered Clary's name. I opened my eyes and saw…

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. My heart feel into about a million pieces as every hope came crashing down around my ears. I would never find her. Not now. It was better to die than to live without her. So die I would. I stood up and started running.

Without looking behind me, I climbed up a side of the Institute. I felt a little like Spiderman or Superman; one of the heroes that Clary had told me about. But when the end of the day came for them, they always lay down knowing that the person in peril had been saved.

This was different. I couldn't save Clary.

I came to rest by a pillar. I leaned against and looked down. I was on the very top of the Institute, but I knew just by looking down that jumping from here wouldn't kill me. It wouldn't even hurt me. I slid down to a sitting position and looked at the little cluster of people below.

They were gathered around Jocelyn, who held Clary's backpack. She was looking very carefully at it, and seemed to be saying something. The others had on looks of dismay, but Jocelyn and Luke seemed to be okay.

Without even thinking about what I was doing, I just stepped off the side of the building. My knees folded automatically, absorbing a good deal of the shock of impact. The rest of it was taken when I rolled, slapping the ground and my back hit, and came up easily to my feet, right behind Isabelle, who didn't even notice.

Luke did though. He looked up and me and met my eyes. I nodded to him inclined my head towards Jocelyn. His eyes flicked back to her.

Simon spoke. "So what do we do now?"

"A block on objects such as this one is rare," Jocelyn said. "Most people or demons would simply block everything, instead of just blocking things that could not fight back. It does not take that much extra effort, so unless a warlock was already truly drained or they were positive that the person had nothing that would work otherwise, it simply wouldn't be done."

"What else could you use?" Alec asked, his tone conversational.

Luke answered. "Pets mostly. Fish, dogs, cats. Sometimes slaves, back when people still had them."

"So people could be used?"

"Oh yes," Luke replied. "But it was extremely painful. Most people preferred not to do it."

"But what can we do?" Isabelle sounded absolutely heart-broken, and to be honest, I was feeling a thousand times worse. "Clary doesn't have any pets."

Alec had now switched to inquisitive mode. "How does the belonging thing work? Is it an issue of payment or documents?"

Jocelyn shook her head. "It is an issue of how much the living animal believes that they belong to the person the tracker seeks."

"Well, then," Alec said, sounding triumphant, which made me nearly want to kill him, "I stand by my earlier statement."

"What?" Simon asked. "What earlier statement?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "He thinks we can use Jace."

Simon laughed. "Jace? You think we could use Jace?"

"What's so funny about it?" Alec asked. "It's based on how much the living thing feels a sense of belonging to Clary. Would you say that you feel like you belong to Clary? More than Jace does?"

Simon turned skeptical. "No, but I don't like it."

"You don't have to," Alec replied. "As long as it works."

"But…" Jocelyn spoke. "Will it work? And even if it does, it will be so painful…"

I shook my head. "Do it." I said. "Do it right now."

"Jace, the pain," Luke said. "I don't think you can imagine it."

"I can take the pain," I said. "Find her, save her."

And so Jocelyn lifted her stele. She grabbed my hand and began to draw on it the exact same runes that I had etched on Clary's backpack. She copied them perfectly, glancing over at them only once. As soon as she connected the final line, the pain burst through me.

It spread from my hand to the rest of my body. It was like being torn into pieces. And then all the little pieces, with my flesh and blood exposed, began to fly through the air. Cold ripped through my veins, and I struggled to remain conscious. But finally, a piece of my body, some part of my chest, warmed up. It warmed and warmed and warmed until it felt like it was on fire. The rest of my body felt like it had turned around, and was now flying back to me. But that piece stayed warm. I saw a picture formulate in front of me. It was bunch of letters written on hill. Letters that spelled out "Hollywood." Then all of the pieces of my body came flying back to me, all except the one. When they collided with my body, it was pain beyond anything imaginable. And then I blacked out.

* * *

When I came around again, my body felt fully restored. That is, except one piece. The piece that was missing, the piece that had become warm, the piece that had found Clary. The piece that was my heart. It was a hole, or at least it felt like one. When I put my hand on my chest, I still felt my heartbeat, strong through my skin. But it felt like my heart was missing.

I opened my eyes and looked at the rest of the group. They were deep in discussion, all except Isabelle, who was hanging over me.

"Oh thank god," she said, when she saw my eyes open. "We thought you were dead, Jace."

"Dead?" I asked. "It wasn't that bad."

"Yes it was. We all saw your eyes go blank and your face distorted in pain. It looked horrible."

"I'm fine." I said. And I was, now. "But that's not important. Did it work?"

"It worked." Isabelle said.

"So where is she?"

"Los Angeles."

_LOS ANGELES? ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COUNTRY? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SAVE HER NOW?_

"Why?" I asked. "Why does everything bad happen in L.A?"

Isabelle gave a harsh, non-comical laugh. "It's more like the city of demons than the city of Angels, huh?"

"And he lives!" Alec cried. I could tell he was trying to hide his true emotion.

I got very carefully to my feet and picked my way over to group.

"So," I asked. "How are we getting to L.A.?"

Jocelyn laughed. "We're taking a plane of course."

Simon stomped his foot. "Why does no one else think that's a bad idea?"

"What?" I asked.

"Look," he said, "you can never do the obvious thing! That's what everyone thinks you're going to do! You're being predictable!"

"Screw predictable," I said. "How long is this going to take?"

Luke held up a finger, I realized he was looking at his phone. "I can get us all in for a flight on Friday."

"But it's TUESDAY," I said. "_Tuesday_. Clary could be dead by Friday."

There was no way I was settling to go on Friday. We had to go sooner. I HAD to save Clary or die trying.

"Jace," Jocelyn spook soothingly, "There's simply no way to get us all across the country sooner than Friday. It'll be okay."

But I could tell she was on the verge of tears too.

"FINE!" I yelled. I whirled on my feet and headed back towards the Institute. I kicked a pot of my way in, shattering it into a thousand tiny pieces. I got in the elevator and punched the walls, bloodying my knuckles. But honestly, physical pain felt better than the emotional pain I was feeling.

I streaked to my room and slammed the door shut. Grabbing my stele, I scribbled a locking rune on the door. Immediately, I ran across the room and put my hand threw the window in frustration. I tore my clothes out of my dresser, tearing my room apart bit by bit, trying to calm the endless frustration.

I couldn't save her yet. I had to wait, and waiting wasn't possible.

I heard knocking on my door but I didn't care. I ignored it, sitting down in the disaster I had created of my room.

* * *

I stayed in my room for the entire day. Periodically, someone knocked on my door, but I ignored him or her. I had a plan. All I needed was not to be seen. I packed my backpack. I put Clary's in it, because it felt like I was carrying a piece of her with me. I put in my stele and grabbed a duffle bag. I cleaned my room. I used Mayrse's credit card number to book a plane ticket on my cell phone. And when 11 o'clock finally came and I heard Isabelle's door lock, I snuck out into the house. I grabbed some food from the kitchen and filled my duffle bag with weapons. Three of my favorites, seraph blades. They worked best when the fight was personal, a Shadowhunter's emotion attributing to their strength. Perfect for this situation. Next, I placed in a couple arm sheaths and the sharpest daggers I could find. Finally, I threw in a sack of throwing knives. I put a glamour over the bag, and finally, finally, crept out of the house into the darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Hey everyone! I'm thrilled to inform you that I have recovered from my serious case of retarded monkey disease, and have my reviewers again. **

_**Mrs edward cullenxxx, theraggles, Leopardeyes, ellenfp, somecrazyshit.x, Quiet Girl Blue, **_**and **_**Ellie weasel**_**, thank you all for your reviews! I loved all of your advice and have taken it sincerely to heart. Guys, please never hesitate give me a suggestion or comment on my writing style!**

**After the last chapter, which was like, freakishly long, this one seems really short. But it is important. I would just like to add, since there has been some confusion, Clary has been dreaming these scenes on the beach. They aren't actually taking place. **

**Anyway, thank you to you all and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Fine. I'm not Cassandra Clare. I don't own any of the characters. All I own is Clary's totally freaky dreams.

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**Clary:**

The dreams. Were they never going to end? And then I would wake, just long enough to realize that I'd been dreaming. Then the flash of blond hair would enter the room, and I would black out once again.

Could this go on forever? Could I stand it? Would I go insane? Would I find out soon enough?

I woke again from a dream, the same as always. It took me a few second to realize that it was a just a nightmare. That I was not, as the dream always showed me, sitting on the shore of Lake Lyn with Jace. That Jace was not here, that he was not a monster, a demon. It took me longer to realize that I could see, though my eyes would not open. That I could feel only air around me, yet my hair stuck to my back. That although it was hot or cold in the room, I was always covered in sweat.

Usually, by the time I got to this realization, my vision began to fade, but not this time. For some reason, adrenaline pumped through my veins and I felt… excited.

Maybe this time, I would figure out who the flash of the blond belonged to. It was so familiar, and yet I could never connect the dots. I thought back to my dreams. In every single one, Jace turned into a demon. After a moment of scrutinizing, I realized that in every dream he was a different demon, an inconsistency. At this point, any inconsistency was cause for celebration. It was something to indicate that this seemingly endless pattern might someday change. In every dream, I turned into a Greater Demon, one I didn't recognize. At first the transformation had been painless, but slowly it began to hurt. It hurt more and more each time. And each time it took longer for the pain to fade away. But it was always gone before I turned into the demon again.

I thought about the end of each dream. I was presented every time with the same choice, the same destiny, that I was must join them, and lead them forever; there was no other way.

I had no idea how long I'd been there for. It could have been hours, it could have been weeks. It suddenly occurred to me to wonder if Jace was looking for me. My heart jolted, and for the first time I had to resist bursting into tears.

Jace. He was _that guy_ for me, the one I cared about most in this world. He couldn't be coming for me. Surely he wouldn't be that stupid. It was a suicide mission. I didn't even know where I was, who ever had be surely had the brains to block a tracking spell.

I tried to convince myself that I would stay strong, that Jace was safely at home, and I had nothing to worry about. But my heart wouldn't believe it. I knew that Jace was coming for me, that his cocky attitude wouldn't allow anyone else to be my hero, that his belief that he could do anything better than anyone wouldn't chance me being captured for two seconds longer than necessary.

Well, crap. So Jace would be on his way into this death trap. The only upside was that maybe I would have some company then.

_No. BAD CLARY._

I couldn't start thinking like that. Jace would be okay, he would escape. He was so much stronger than me; he had so much more training. Surely if anyone could escape from here, it was Jace.

Suddenly, I was aware that someone walked in the door. I couldn't see them though. I could see only straight up at the gray, metal ceiling, using my peripheral vision to spy that blond hair each time.

"Hey!" the voice yelled, somewhere beneath me and to my right, "Who the hell is monitoring her? She's been awake for almost five minutes now morons!"

_So, so sorry sir._

That voice wasn't human, I realized, but the first was.

"Don't apologize, fix it!"

_We cannot, sir,_ another non-human voice said, _the equipment no work_.

"Did you idiots break that? Do you have any idea how EXPENCIVE that was?"

I heard the door creak open, and the flash of blond hair entered the room, maddeningly familiar. It walked to my side and disappeared.

"Calm yourself, man," another human voice said. This voice, along with the hair were horribly familiar. I knew them, I knew I did, but I just couldn't put my finger on who it was. "It is not safe to talk here."

"But the equipment, we spent thousands on that! All that dream inducing potion wasted if this stupid machine doesn't work!"

"QUIET" the second voice snapped. "No doubt she can hear us and will remember what we're saying. If she is to be like this we cannot be here."

I realized that the voice and the hair belonged to the same person. Someone I knew, someone that, if I could just see their face, I would recognize in an instant."

_So what we do?_

There was a rustling of cloth, as if someone was searching through their pockets for something.

"Inject her with this," the familiar voice said, "and then for God's sake, fix these machine!"

With that, he stomped out, and the flash of blond hair passed through my vision again. I felt a sharp pain in my back, and then my vision faded to black, and I lost consciousness


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Hello! So, just to inform you guys, I've added another thang to the story. Every couple chapters, a little mini-chapter will be inserted. It will be from a different character's point of view. One from Isabelle, Simon, Alec, and Jocelyn. I hope you enjoy them and you'll see why they're necessary. **

**Thanks to my reviewers! **_**Ellenfp, Fantasy-Phantom101, Quiet Girl Blue, rOcKeRfOoL, **_**and**_** theraggles**_** you guys are the bomb! I owe you huge and thank you to you all. **

**Please, don't hesitate to drop a comment. :D**

**Disclaimer: *Sigh* I don't own anything except my plot. The characters and most locations belong to Cassandra Clare.

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**Isabelle:**

I rolled over comfortably, and then let out a surprised shriek. Ow… I'd rolled over onto a high-heeled shoe somehow left on my bed in the mess of my room.

It was Wednesday morning, early, by the look of the sky outside of my window. I stood up and gave New York a glance-over, daring it to throw a challenge my way.

Then I remembered it already had; Clary was gone. Crap.

Jace had been a disaster yesterday. He couldn't wait until Friday to rescue her. He'd locked himself in his room, ignoring the knocks on his door from Alec and me. I hoped he hadn't done anything rash, but seeing as it was Jace I was talking about, a rash action was inevitable.

So inevitable, in fact, that I realized it was pretty stupid of me to just be sitting here wondering about it. My time would be better spent viewing the carnage.

I hurried over to my huge, oak wardrobe and threw open the doors. Inside, rows of jackets and pants greeted me, neatly hung on hangers from before Mom left. I grabbed a pair of tight, dark-washed jeans and my short leather jacket with three-quarter sleeves. I shoved my feet into a pair of black Chinese slippers that I'd been using house shoes and practice sprinted to Jace's room.

Not bothering to knock, I threw open the door. And practically passed out.

Because Jace wasn't there. Normally, this wouldn't freak me out. He could have been somewhere else in the Institute, or have run out to Taki's for breakfast. But this wasn't normally. This was freaking five-thirty in the morning, and his girlfriend was missing. This was anything but normally.

His room was as clean as ever, but that was about to change. I tore through his stuff, looking for a note, a confirmation, _something_, telling me where that freaking boy had gone. And found nothing.

I turned on my heel, ready to storm out of the room, when something in tornado path of Jace's room caught my eye. I leaned down and picked it up.

It was a piece of paper, printed out from online. It wasn't crumpled, as it would have been if I'd thrown in somewhere, it was neatly folded. Jace had obviously intended to take it with him. I carefully unfolded it. It was ticket. One of those e-ticket things, where you can check in 24 hours before.

24-hours before your flight left, of course. Your flight from JFK to LAX. Your flight that left at 3:30A.M. Your flight, which according to the ticket, was the last flight with availability until Friday morning.

Crap.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Okay, I admit, I let a little bit of my hatred for airports sink into this one.  
**

**Thanks to my reviewers. **_**Leopardeyes, Fantasy-Phantom101, ellenfp, ronnie00, **_**and**_** Twilight113**_** thank you! Kudos to Leopardeyes for pointing out that, yeah Jace did need the ticket to get on his plane. Oops. I guess he just used one of those little check in things and hopefully remembered his little 7 digit code or whatever those things are called. **

**I hope you guys like this chapter. I really did my homework on it, and all information is true. I have seen the crappy state of LAX myself, more than once, and I now fly out of Burbank as often as possible. That telephone booth at least USED to exist, I'm not sure if it still does. **

**Read on!**

**Disclaimer: Not Cassandra Clare. Hopefully you know that by now.

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**

**Jace:**

I groaned slightly, then shifted trying to get comfortable. Of course, I was squished in a middle seat between a fat guy and a mother with an infant, so that was pretty much freaking impossible. Why did planes have to be so darn uncomfortable?

_Beeeep_ "Hello, this is your captain speaking." Captain? I thought the dude who flew a plane was a _pilot_, not a captain. Captains drove ships, for Christ's sake. "We are beginning our final descent into Los Angeles International Airport. At this time all seats-backs and tray-tables should be in their full upright and locked position, all electronic items turned off. It's currently 70 degrees in Los Angeles, sunny, with no wind. Local time is 5:25A.M. We apologize that due to minor inconvenience we will be landing in the Tom Bradley terminal, instead of our scheduled descent into terminal 3. Thank you and welcome to Los Angeles."

Did anyone else notice some of the words in there? "Final descent?" "Terminal?" Do those sound like good things?

Didn't think so.

Whatever, I didn't have a clue what the whole terminal disaster was about, but I figured I'd found out when I got there. I attempted, without success, to return to my nap. Stupid red-eye.

Finally, the plane bumped to the ground and shuttered to a shaky stop. The pilot began to taxi. _Beeep_ "Welcome to Los Angeles. Please do not stand up until the fasten-seatbelt sign is turned off and we come to a full and complete stop. You're welcome to whip your cell phones now and make any calls you need to. We know you have a lot of choices when you fly and we want to thank you…"

I turned him out, not needing to listen to anymore of his idiocy. I mean, "full and complete stop?" What the heck is a PARTIAL stop? Idiots…

I was antsy. Really antsy. I felt loads better now that I was actually on my way, not just sitting around the Institute waiting for Clary to magically reappear in my arms. But I couldn't stop thinking about her. Not even to contemplate the stupidity of the pilot. The plane ride was horrible; I kept willing it to go faster and faster, but it didn't. And now, _finally_ we were landing in L.A. Where Clary was.

I wasn't sure exactly how I was going to find her. Since the tracking spell had been done on me the first time, I still felt that one piece of my body, my heart, missing. Although if I put my hand over it, my heart beat through it felt cold and empty to me. My heart was out there, with Clary, leading me toward her. As romantically cheesy as that sounds.

But I didn't know where my heart, and Clary, was. I would have to do the tracking spell myself, and hopefully stay conscious this time. Since I was in LA now, hopefully I would get something more specific, and it would get more specific every time I did the spell. But how much of that pain could I take? For Clary? All of it. Every ounce the world could throw at me.

The plane jerked to a stop again, and people began to get up, stretching, reaching for their things. I grabbed the backpack I'd shoved under the seat in front of me and slipped past the fat guy. I was the first person off the plane.

No matter how distracted I or anyone for that matter, was, it was impossible not to notice what a piece of crap LAX was. I rushed through the terminal, avoiding people, bags, and the frequent random fences indicating construction. The floor peeled up under my feet, the crappy linoleum coming straight off. I hurried past the customs department feeling glad I didn't have to wait in the huge line to talk to one of the extremely grouching-looking customs officers. I ran past security, watching as the walls became even more ugly, the horrible taupe colored paint peeling, and more and more areas were cut off. I was joined by masses of people, all trying to fit through a tiny hallway out to the baggage claim. Finally, I was ushered towards the carousels, and awaited my duffel bag.

A voice crackled over the loud-speaking. "Calling customer Jace Lightwood Security. Customer Jace Lightwood to Security.

Well, crud. That wasn't good. Every minute I spent in this god-forsaken airport was another minute that Clary had to suffer. I shoved people out of my way as I pushed through the crowd back to Security. Every time I saw a girl with red-hair, the vision forming on the back of my eyes intensified. It was a girl lying on the floor. Her wavy red hair covered her face, her skin was pale, she did not move. She was very, very obviously dead.

I arrived at the Security desk. The guy behind it gave me a wary look.

"Yes," he asked.

"I'm Jace Lightwood," I told him.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Lightwood. There was a bit of a problem with your bag."

"What was it?"

"Well there was a bit of a complication with its contents."

"And that was?"

"What's inside of it…"

_Look, private twinkle toes, I don't have all day!_

"What was the matter with what was inside of it?"

"There were weapons."

"Weapons?" I feigned innocence.

"Yes, weapons. As in plural."

What did this guy think I was, an idiot?

"So, what happens now?"

"Well, if you have a license, you show it to me and then get the hell out."

Nice. Classy behavior for sure.

"I have a license," I lied. "I'll just grab it." I fumbled around in my backpack, looking for something I knew wasn't there.

"It was in here," I muttered. "Damn it! I must have dropped it on the plane."

"Then you'll just have to come with me, superman."

"Look," I told Sergeant Jerk, "they check my bag in NYC, when I had my license. What'd ya say you just give me the bag and we can both get on with our lives."

"Not a chance, buster," the cop pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Just freaking perfect.

Thinking fast, I jammed a hard upper-cut under his chin, an almost unnoticeable yet very effective move. He fell like a rock, and I grabbed my bag and skedaddled out of there before Sergeant Jerk's fellow jerkwads could come arrest me.

I ran out to the curb, where I was met with about 500 people, a million cars, and more pollution than I would ever know what to do with. Looking at the masses of people, I figured I could probably hail a cab ten times faster out of the airport, if I could get out on foot. I followed the traffic until the curb ended, where some security guy started to yell at me.

I'd had enough of those idiots for one morning, I ran quickly down the side of the road, avoiding turning traffic with ease. Finally, I left the airport circuit.

Which dumped me right in the middle of Los Angeles, with no maps, no cabbie, and almost no cash.

If only Clary had ever taught me how to draw that Portal rune.

Now seemed like as good a time as ever to try to the Tracking rune again. I lifted my left arm and grabbed my stele out of my pocket. Slowly, carefully, I traced the rune on it. The swirl burned into my skin, then followed by the box. As with the last time, as soon as the final line was completed, my body split into a million pieces. They flew out, but they didn't go very far this time. My heart heated and heated, the pain was excruciating.

A picture appeared in my head. It was a series of buildings, kind of like a town. Almost like a movie, the picture zoomed out and swirled around until it focused in on a sign.

"Welcome to the JET Propulsion Laboratory."

Suddenly, all the pieces of my body slammed back together, and I lost consciousness again.

* * *

I woke up only a few minutes later, but luckily this time I had a destination in mind. JET Propulsion Laboratory. I'd never heard of it. Time to track down a phone book.

I hunted through the streets, until I finally found a phone booth. It was obviously meant to be cute, painted red with the rounded top. But the paint was peeling, gum stuck all over it. Ignoring the appearance, I walked in and slammed the door shut. Inside, there was a yellow pages, thank god. I flipped through quickly and found this JET Propulsion Laboratory. It was called JPL for short, and was in Pasadena.

I sighed. Pasadena? That meant nothing to me. Resisting the urge to punch out the windows, I jammed my elbow against the numbers.

"Hello, this is the operator speaking," a female voice said.

What? Operator?

"City and State please."

I fumbled around in my brain, before just deciding to go along with it and see if I could find out where the heck I was going.

"I need directions please."

"Where to, sir?"

Sir? She called me a _sir_. Hmm… I liked that.

"JPL. By public transport."

As I soon found out, LA lacked a real public transport system. At first, I was going to have to get a cab, but after flirting with the lady a little, she finally revealed that I could get on the Metro.

I repeated the directions to myself over and over. Get on the Green Line. Go to Union Station. Get on the Gold Line. Get off at Allen. Hail a cab. Save Clary. I could do this. I could do this.

I found the Green Line station pretty easily and bought myself a ticket. Sitting down in one of the seats, I found a pretty college-aged girl sitting in front of me. She smiled at me, and I gave a weak smile back as I realized that she, too, had red hair. The vision came back. The girl, the wavy red hair, the pale white skin, and a hand that I recognized as my own sweeping the hair clear of face so that I could look into the lifeless eye of my love.

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**AN: By the way, my brother insists on credit for the "She called me a _sir_" line. He actually said that once. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Well, here we go! Another chapter! The story is really starting to get excited now! I won't keep you much longer.  
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**Thanks to my reviewers! Oh my god, there are so many of you! **_**Ellenfp, Leopardeyes, BlazingWolfFire, theraggles, Quiet Girl Blue, Ronnie00, Fantasy-Phantom101, **_**and **_**Summerj**_**, thank you all! I enjoyed the numerous comments I got on my description of LAX, and yes, it is that bad. Also, about that whole "final descent" thing, I'm just going to go ahead and admit that I stole that from a George Carlin skit. Guilty. **

**Go! Read!**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the characters. I own the plot and the freaky dreams. :D

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**Clary:**

Surely this had to end somewhere. It couldn't just be an endless cycle waking, sleeping, dreaming, and pain. Surely there had to be some tangible beginning and ending. It couldn't go on forever. It just couldn't.

But it was. Nothing changed, except that one time. And every time I awoke there was barely time to remember that before my "vision" faded into that tiny black dot again.

To sum things up, I was thoroughly freaked. But I knew I had to be strong. I had to try to escape. But there was hardly ever time to thing about it. To look at my surroundings and figure out what was actually happening. Because something was happening.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were doing something to me, and that it was beginning to take effect. I felt different every time I woke up. The pain was immeasurable and never ceased. But I felt as though I was going through a physical transformation. I could never see any of my body to tell if I was or if it was just all in my head. All I knew was that it hurt like hell.

I wanted, no I _needed_, some answers. I needed to know what was going on. And more importantly I needed some time to figure out what was going on.

And then something changed. I came back to consciousness, freaked out as usual as the image of myself as a Greater demon, Jace as a demon in general, and full of a fresh, new pain.

Instantly, I knew something was different. I felt something. For the first time God knew how long, I felt something other than intense pain, my hair plastered to my back, and a thin sheen of sweat covering my body.

I felt a table beneath my back. It was metal, and totally unpadded and hurt a lot. The cold metal felt good against my skin, but it was hard and added to all the pain. I realized that all I saw was blackness, and that was because my eyes were closed. Finally, I was able to open them.

I looked at my surroundings. I was in a room, no, more of a cell. The walls were made out of what looked like clean, pure steel; a Christian cross and a Star of David were formed in steel bars making up a door. There was one window, a tiny thing that a fly and _maybe _some light could fit through. It was crossed with steel bars in the shape of a cross, the word "God" engraved in it.

The cell was obviously made for Downworlders. There was no way a werewolf or a vampire could ever escape, in fact they would be in horrible pain just being here.

I tried to sit up, but couldn't. Glancing down, I saw that huge metal manacles enveloped my wrists. They'd been designed for bigger hands, but had been modified for me. There was no way I was getting out of here unless someone with a key was walking with me.

A voice spoke, startling me. "So, the princess arises at last." I recognized it immediately. It was the familiar voice. The voice of the blond-haired boy, the voice that I knew, if I could only figure it out.

Although I couldn't see the man, I knew instinctively that he would be watching me very closely. I sneered slightly and looked straight up, letting no emotion show though my face.

"So, Clary," he continued, "made up your mind yet?"

How should I answer? Jace was the one who could always come up with the witty comments, the things that put his opponent on their toes.

"No," I answered, "but you'll be the first person I tell when I do." My voice was stronger than I had expected, considering I didn't actually have a clue what the was talking about.

"Sarcasm. A nice touch. I see your little boyfriend has taught you well."

Jace. Of course. I really should have been expecting that. I tried not to let my feelings show through, my worry that he was running into a death trap, or worse, that he was already here.

I'd been apart from him for god knows how long, and I felt a sort of empty ache in my chest. I missed horribly. I needed him back.

"Touchy, touchy, touchy." The voice came closer now. Almost close enough that I knew its owner would soon be view. Something was telling me it was infinitely important that I see who it was. That everything would make a thousand times more sense once I realized who this maniac was.

I sneered again, having absolutely no idea what to say.

"Of course, your feelings are wasted, Clary. Jace never loved you, but it doesn't matter anyway, because he is already dead."

* * *

My heart clenched, my mind reeled. Only a single thought ran through my head. _No, no, no_. Because Jace couldn't be dead. I would have felt something, the world would seem different. But it still felt the same; therefore Jace was still in it. He had to be. The only reason I was fighting this was to see him again.

So I had to keep fighting, because Jace must still be alive.

Surely my internal battle had shown on my face, and now this man knew my weakness, through and through. So much for that.

I had completely ignored the statement that Jace had never loved me. That was impossible, he'd started our relationship thing in the first place! He'd told me he loved me first, he must.

"So, Clary." I wondered how much time had passed while I had my little internal argument, but the man kept speaking as though nothing had happened. "We need to discuss your future."

"Lead the way," I said.

"You don't really have a lot of options, you know. You can join us, or you can watch everyone you love die and then join us."

"And if I don't want to join you?"

"You see, that isn't really a choice. You must join us."

"Well, you let me know how that goes."

Suddenly, the man stepped over me, his face hovering right in my vision. Recognition snapped.

"You have no choice, Clary. You are too much like us to be ignored. To powerful. Too much like me."

His face was close enough for me to reach up and punch him, had my arms been untied. His light blond hair hung down across his face, and pain shot through me at the sight of him.

Jonathon. 


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: And here we have another mini-chapter from NYC. Things were getting a little boring back there, so I spruced it up a little. This chapter is in Simon's point of view, which was _really_ fun to write. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much.**

**Disclaimer: I feel like we've done this before. Have we?  
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**Simon:**

Sitting in New York was hell.

I was stuck here. I couldn't get into the Institute, I couldn't run across the country to save Clary, there was nothing I could do.

Isabelle and I were sitting at Taki's. She had just spilled the beans on what Jace had done, and I said the only thing that came to mind.

"What?"

Isabelle sighed. "Jace went-"

"No, no," I said, waving my hand to stop her. "I heard you. But, how? Why?"

"You know Jace," Isabelle replied. "He's always has to be the hero. Particularly when Clary's involved."

Well, I knew that. I understood it too, because if I were being honest, I'd felt the same way for a long time. Not really anymore though. Clary was Jace's. I'd accepted it, and I'd moved on as much as I could.

"But that was so stupid of him! He doesn't even know what he's going against."

"He thinks he'll figure it out. Besides, he's the only one that can track Clary. If any of us have a chance, it's him."

She sighed again and put leaned her head onto her chin. Her dark, silky black hair spread across her shoulder and half of her face, like a curtain. Her features looked sad, the same expression that I imagined was on my face. The expression we'd all been wearing since Clary was taken.

I found myself staring at Isabelle, which was pretty stupid considering I'd seen her about a hundred times. She was just so… so… amazing. She was beautiful, she really was. We were about the same height, me maybe half an inch taller. I looked into her bluey- grey eyes and saw a reflection of my own.

We were both going through the same thing, the loss, with no promised return, of a very dear friend. And now the danger of another friend. Yes, I was willing to call Jace a friend. I still didn't really like him, but that, I supposed, was never going to change. He was too cocky, and really too perfect for me to like him. But he was Clary's boyfriend, and as her best friend, I was practically ordered to like him.

I glanced at my watch. 8:50 on a Wednesday morning. I should have been in school. History class, to be exact. With Clary. I never thought I'd be sad to be missing AP U.S. History, but I was, because it was time that I was supposed to spend with Clary.

The arrival of our food jerked me back to reality. Kaelie, the waitress, slid a plate of pancakes in front of Isabelle and cup of blood in front of me.

"Hey," she said. Isabelle looked up. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I heard about the little girl."

Clary. Of course.

Isabelle spoke. "Who told you?"

But Kaelie just walked away, her face slightly downcast. I wasn't sure whether that was due to the grim subject matter or the absence of Jace.

"Isabelle…"

"What is it, Simon?"

"What are we gonna do?"

She shook her head and put it back in her hands, her hair spilling across her face again. "I don't know, Simon. I really don't know."

She looked so weak, so defeated, compared to her usual self. Suddenly, I felt like, for her sake, I had to answer my own question.

"Well, we're going to go on Friday, right?"

"Yeah, but what do we do from there? We can't track Clary ourselves, we'll never find her."

That was true, we couldn't track Clary. Which meant that my plan to comfort Isabelle was a total and complete failure.

We ate the rest of the meal in silence.

* * *

When I returned Isabelle to the Institute, Alec waited outside the gates.

"Don't go in," he warned.

I tilted my head to the side. "Why not?'

"Luke just told Jocelyn what happened. She's a basket case."

"Why?" Isabelle asked.

"Well… she thinks she should have been on that plane. That Jace should have given her the ticket."

I shock my head. "She doesn't know Jace very well, does she?"

"No," Alec replied. "She doesn't. But from what she does know I think she hates him."

"Well, we can worry about that when we have Clary back," Isabelle spoke.

Alec was about to say something when a voice behind us called out.

"Hey, what are you kids doing?"

All three of us turned in surprise. A cop sat behind us, his car parked at the edge of the road. "You kids look young enough to be in school, so why aren't you?" His voice was harsh, and I instantly felt that the three of us were going to end up in the police station before this was over. He was not the forgiving type of cop.

Alec looked him right in the eye. "I'm 18, sir, graduated last year."

The cop seemed to believe him, but then turned to Isabelle and me. Both of us were tall and looked older than we were, but neither of us looked old enough to be out of school.

"We're waiting for our parents," I said, thinking quickly.

"Here?" the cop asked.

"Family emergency," Isabelle said, catching on to my thought.

"Are you aren't waiting at school because…?"

"I pulled them out." Alec stepped. "Our parents asked me to get them and then they would pick us up here to go the airport."

"Well," the cop, whose badge read "Officer Lighen," said, "then you should have any problem with me waiting here with you."

Alec shook his head. "None at all, sir."

The glaring flaw in Alec's plan was doing cartwheels in front of my face. Luke and Jocelyn may random come out of the Institute, but the moment they did our cover would be blown. What was Alec playing at?

Isabelle turned to me, a copy of my confusion spelled out on her own face.

We waited half an hour, all the while Alec with an expectant look on his face. Finally, the officer turned, ready to take us in, but Alec insisted.

"They must have hit traffic. Just let me call them."

"Okay," Officer Lighen agreed, "but you stay where I can hear you."

Alec pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.

Realization flashed across Isabelle's face, and she looked relieved. I took that to mean that Alec actually did have a plan.

"Hey Mom," he said into the phone. Mayrse? He was actually calling her?

"You running late?" There was a pause as she spoke, and then Alec nodded. "So, you'll be here in about half an hour?"

Then I realized what Isabelle had no doubt just gotten as well. Mayrse and Robert Lightwood were due to return from their meeting with some Canadian Shadowhunters today. They would be home soon, car full of bags, and the perfect cover for Alec's story.

There was just one problem.

Alec hung up the phone, and the cop lost his patience.

"That does it, kid. Come on, in the car. You're parents can pick you up from the police station." 


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Another fairly long chapter. I really enjoy writing Jace's POV. That's why his chapters are always longer. But I won't keep you from reading any longer. :D**

**Disclaimer: Yes, yes, no I'm not Cassandra Clare. Sheesh.  
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**Jace:**

Maybe it was just my nature to be cynical, but so far I hadn't found a single attractive thing about LA.

The airport sucked, it was dirty and under horrible construction. There was no real public transport system, and the Metro was confusing as hell. I was at Union Station, running around frantically. I was on a mission: the find the Gold Line. I shoved some random guy out of my way, and ran into yet another unmarked hallway.

Unlike LAX, Union Station was actually pretty nice, but it was a total disaster in terms of signing. Pushing my way through the a crowd, I finally found a sign. It pointed me towards some stairs.

I run up them, probably knocking over several people in the process. I was dying to get on this train. One left in about two minutes, and then there was a half hour break. I had to be on it.

I got to the platform just as the train was pulling in. I waited impatiently while people got off, and then shoved through the crowd onto the Metro Train. I snagged a seat.

People piled onto the train, and I suddenly felt like a jerk when I saw a pregnant woman looking for a seat. I stood up and let her have mine, which resulted in me standing when the train left the station.

Luckily, as a New Yorker, I was pretty experienced in the art of standing on the subway. I laughed to myself as everyone jerked all over the train as it stopped and started. I was watching as one guy knocked over like half the train as it pulled into the first station. _Chinatown_, I read, I was looking for Allen. But as I looked out at the platform, I saw a girl. She was small, with red hair and obviously a figment of my imagination. Because Clary wasn't standing on the platform.

Once I saw that, I couldn't get her out of my head. I swear as I stood on that train every moment of my life since I'd met Clary passed through my head. _Lincoln_. The moment I saw her in Pandemonium, how I really _saw_ her, how she was so instantly beautiful. Clary laughing on that couch with Simon. Clary looking at me in the alley like she wasn't sure what to make of me. _Heritage Square_. Clary at the Bone City, face full of pain. My need to help her, to do anything to make it stop._ Southwest Museum_. The look on her face at Renwick's, when Valentine had told us we were siblings. How it had all seemed like a horrible joke to me, how it couldn't be true because I love her so, so much. _Highland Park_. The kiss at the Seelie Court, when I realized that becoming her brother had made difference really to either of us. How I'd wanted to hold her closer, kiss her longer, even though Isabelle and Simon were watching. _Mission_. Her face after she's realized what the rune did on the boat. How powerful she'd been and yet still seemed so fragile. Her horrible pain when she'd thought Simon was going to die and how all I'd wanted was to take her into my arms and make the pain stop. _Fillmore_. How devastated I'd been when I'd known she was asking me just to be her brother. But all I ever wanted was to please her, and so I'd consented. _Del Mar_. The horror I'd felt when she'd shown up in Idris. How broken she'd looked after I'd yelled at her. How I'd felt like I'd just gone against nature, and I couldn't stand to hurt her. _Memorial Park_. That day at the Wayland Manor. How I'd just wanted to keep going and going, I never wanted to let her go, to stop kissing her, to be away from her, ever. That night we'd spent together, and even though all we did was sleep, how perfect it was for me. _Lake._ When she'd told me that I wasn't her brother. That final night in Idris, with the fireworks and then perfection of knowing that I could have Clary. That Clary and I could finally be together, and just getting to hold her hand while everyone else was there.

_Allen._

I got off of the train. The platform of the Allen station was right in the middle of freeway, which was a little disorienting. I followed the cement down to some stairs, and walked quickly down, underneath the freeway.

In NYC, I would have just stuck out my finger and five cabs would have flocked to me, seeing as I was the only person there. But here, there were no cabs to even hail. For a minute, I just stood on the street corner, looking lost, but then I felt someone tap on my shoulder.

"Excuse me," a voice said. I turned around. It was a girl, maybe 15 years old. She had short, dark brown hair and was dressed in a karate gi. "Are you okay?"

I looked at her. "Yeah, fine."

"You sure? You look kinda lost."

I gave in. "I need to a hail a cab."

She laughed. "You're not going to get one," she said. "cabs don't just drive around here. You're from New York, huh?"

I nodded.

"Well, don't worry, Mr. New Yorker," she said. "I'll call a cab for you." She pulled out a cell phone and scrolled through her contacts. Finally, she selected one and called. "Hello, I'd like to order a cab." "Yes." "For now, please." "The Allen Street Metro Station." "Um… hold on a moment."

She turned back to me. "Where do you need to go?"

Was Jet Propulsion Laboratory a common enough place that she would know where it was? I tried it. "JPL."

She smiled and spoke into the phone. "To JPL please." "Alright thanks." She put the phone back in her pocket. "So," she said to me, "you okay now?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." I wondered briefly if she was checking me out, but she wasn't looking at me like most girls did, she looked at me like she was my friend, and she was sincerely worried about me.

"Okay," she said. "Bye." She waved at me and didn't give a backwards glance as she walked. She reached a guy I hadn't noticed before, but he was dressed in a karate gi as well and looked so like her that they had to be siblings. The two of them turned and headed back into the station like nothing had happened, and she hadn't just saved my sorry butt from sitting there all night.

It made me sad, because I realized it was the kind of thing Clary would have done.

The cab showed up about 20 minutes later. I got in and he took me to JPL. As we drove through the streets, he glanced often at the clock.

"You know," the cabbie told me, "they stop taking visitors after 5 P.M."

"That's okay," I responded. "I'm not really interested in going in. I'm meeting someone there."

In a way it was the truth. I would be meeting Clary there and the two of us would head back to New York.

Half an hour later, the cabbie reached the JPL gates, which were closing just as we got there, at 5 o'clock.

"You sure you want here, kid?"

I bit my lip, unsure. My plan had kind of stopped here. As I thought about what to do, my stomach growled.

"Um… can you take me back to the nearest town?"

The cabbie made a quick u-turn and ended up dropping me off a near-by Subway. I almost fainted when he gave me the bill, it was more than half my money and at least double the price I would have paid for a journey that long a home.

I wandered into the Subway and wondered what to do next. Food, I decided, was the first order or business. I bought a meatball sub to go and a coke. I was starving, I hadn't eaten all day, but somehow I just couldn't make myself eat.

I walked aimlessly into a deserted alleyway on the outskirts of town. Here, I sat against a wall and tried to make a decision. Absentmindedly, I ate my sub. It was delicious. At some point I realized that I was holding my stele. I took this as a signal to myself that it was time to try tracking Clary again. I quickly sketched the rune on my arm, not even thinking of the pain that would inevitably followed, and was fairly surprised when it started.

First an image flashed across my vision. I sign I had seen that day, the one that said "Jet Propulsion Laboratory." A huge green check mark lighted across it. Next, there was a little, almost video, following a small path to the side of the sign. From there, the "camera" walked to a pothole off of the path.

Then all the pieces of me flew back together, taking a surprisingly short amount of time. Their reuniting with my actual body caused me to black out from the pain.

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When I woke, my whole felt hot, my heart in particular. I looked around at the darkness of the night. I couldn't travel there tonight, I would have to wait for daylight or risk being over run and captured by demons.

But the one thing I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, was that tomorrow was the day I had to save Clary.

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**AN: Just real quick, I wanted to say that all information in this chapter except JPL not taking visitors after 5 is researched and true. Those are all real stops on the Gold Line in order, and that's actually how you get there from Union Station. The Allen street station is actually in the middle of the freeway. And as for those two kids in karate gis, well, I'll just confess that I may know them. Intimately. :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**AN: Eek! This chapter is so _intense_.  
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**Thanks to **_**Giraffegymnast,**_** and**_** s.s,love.n.p**_** for your lovely reviews. ****And wowiiiieeee. Guys, give it up for **_**ronnie00**_** for reviewing three, yes, THREE times! GOOOO. **** Thanks a million to all my reviewers, it really makes me want to work on the story to know that people are actually reading it. :D**

**Disclaimer: ...  
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**Clary:**

Rage filled me. How could Jonathon be alive? Jace had killed him, Shadowhunters had found his body. How was it possible?

Yet he was here. I recognized him exactly. The sharp features, so like Valentine's. That light, light blond hair that had been dyed dark in Idris. The thin body and of course the inescapably evil disposition. There was no doubt that this was my brother.

"So, Clary, excepted the inevitable yet?" he asked, voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Nothing is inevitable," I said, my voice heavy, "except your death."

"Confident, eh? You just keep doing that."

"How on earth did I end up with such an evil jerk for a brother?"

Jonathon laughed. "Your unkindness doesn't hurt me, Clary. The end of this is very close. Your transformation is very nearly complete."

Transformation? Like what kind of transformation? Was he going to turn me into some kind of monster or something? I laughed as I realized that was probably exactly what he was going to do.

"And when it's over?" I asked.

"Well, then you will have no choice but to join us."

Joining them? My _favorite_! Why didn't some mention it before?

"You keep saying that, what happens if I don't join you? What happens if I do?"

"Well," Jonathon said, a smile on his face. "_When_ you join us, you will be more powerful than you ever imagined. Together we will rid the world of Downworlders and their Shadowhunter scumbag friends."

"Uh huh," I said, "about that. I'm not to positive about the whole kill Downworlders deal."

"You'll get there, Clary. We'll help you get there."

At that moment, as if on a cue, footsteps rang off the metal in the hall. "Kyle," Jonathon called, "come in here a second."

Another man joined Jonathon in standing over me. And I recognized him immediately. A sense of betrayal filled me, because I couldn't trust anything anymore. Not night clubs, or central park, or apparently taxis. Because standing above me, smiling down at me in a horrible way, was the cabbie.

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"It was you," I said. "Of course, I should have known. Tracking me through the card. Difficult, probably requiring technology. I would say a Warlock but with your anti-Downworlders thing I would think not."

I was spewing hot air, of course. I needed to say something while I got over the shock the appearance of Kyle. He'd been altered some way, that was for sure. His face looked like that of a human mixed with that of a demon, and it had shown physically a little more than expected. Scars ripped across his face, which looked like it had been mixed with that of a Raverner. His arms were long and scaly, his voice rough. Yet somehow I recognized him instantly as the man from the cab. He was shorter than Jonathon, with mousy-brown hair. I was suddenly overcome with an urge to draw him, thinking that would probably be the most interesting drawing I'd ever done.

But a horrible thought when through my head. And suddenly I knew exactly what Jonathon was talking about when he spoke of my transformation. And all of those dreams on the beach of Lake Lyn made sense too. Because Jonathon was changing me the way he'd changed Kyle. The way he himself had been altered before his birth.

He was putting demon blood in my veins.

"Very good, Clary," Jonathon said. "Very, very good. You're perfect for this."

"Oh, really?" I asked. "Am I going to look like him when you're finished with me?"

For some reason, I was not upset. I had accepted what he was doing, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to fight it. I wasn't going to get emotional, I was just going to do everything in my power to stop him. Which included keeping him preoccupied while I thought about what in hell I was going to do.

"Of course not. We'll have to preserve your looks, it's one of our greatest weapons."

Intelligent thoughts raced through my head. Most of them something along the lines of "WHAT?"

"Hmm," I said, still trying to work out a plan.

"So, since you won't join us willingly, we thought we'd take tonight to convince you. Normally just being in here would be enough for any Downworlder, but for you we've had to go to extra efforts. And I must say we've really outdone ourselves. Haven't we?" he turned to Kyle.

"Oh, for sure, master," Kyle replied. "It's brilliant."

"Let me show you, Clary, let me show you."

Jonathon stepped out of my view and I heard him flick a switch. Almost instantly, the table I was lying on began to fold up like a hospital bed. When I was in a full sitting position, or things began to change. Spikes grew on the chair's surfaces and the arm rests that had extended out of it. Chains appeared on the walls. There was another table, with a roller on it.

It was an old-fashioned torture chamber.

"Normally," Jonathon continued as though nothing had happened, "I would _never _torture my sister. But given the circumstances, I have no choice. A night in here should soften you up."

The chair was already extremely painful, and I could feel the spikes getting even sharper. I cried out.

"Please Jonathon, please."

"Oh no, Clary. If you'd just given in like a good girl this wouldn't have to happen. But you must learn from your mistakes. And pain is the best teacher. It was a great lesson from our esteemed father."

"Valentine was cruel!" I screamed. "He was cruel and horrible and you're worse!"

"Thank you, Clary," Jonathon said very calmly. "I take great pride in that. I think we'll leave you in here tonight. Kyle, why don't you come in around 5 and switch her to those chain on the walls, hmm?"

Kyle nodded compliantly. "Sounds excellent, master."

The pain was excruciating. And I was stuck. I felt my grip on the situation going, and I began to scream.

Tears ripped down my face as the pain became worse a worse. A thousand needles were, literally, being stuck into my skin. Everywhere. There was nowhere I could put my weight where it wouldn't hurt.

I screamed again. I screamed for my mother, for Luke, for Isabelle. But most of all I screamed for Jace. I screamed and screamed until my voice was gone, and then I screamed noiselessly.

As my skin became sore, the pain worsened still more. My consciousness was going, and when the blackness came, I welcomed it readily.

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**AN: Oh my god. Did I just write that? I am a seriously deranged child. Maybe I need help. I just wrote one of my favorite characters into a torture chamber. Oh dear, oh dear. **


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Holy mother of god. This mini-chapter is a lot longer than a mini-chapter. It's a normal chapter. Sorry. Things just go so _interesting_! I couldn't stop writing! Alec was really fun to write, and I hope you guys enjoy it  
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**Thank you to_ jay-bird95_ for the review! :)**

**Disclaimer: I have not recently magically transformed into Cassandra Clare.  
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**Alec:**

This week was not going well. First Clary had been taken. Then Magnus had been attacked and disappeared. And now, Isabelle, Simon, and I sat in the police station, caged by some officer who thought we were ditching school.

I realized that our ideal cover story would have been homeschooling, which I hadn't even thought about. Now the time for stories was gone and we were going to have to wait for my parents to come pick us up and then get chewed out by them for being stupid enough to stand outside during school hours. In middle of this crisis, Jace had somehow disappeared to LA.

I felt like such a total _loser_.

Jocelyn and Luke were upset about not being able to do anything about Clary, but they were planning plane tickets, getting things done to help her. Jace was off actually saving her, maybe he already had. Mom and Dad were coming back from a meeting, unaware that anything had even happened. And I was stuck in a police station.

I groaned and put my head in my hands, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. Isabelle, who had been talking to Simon about nothing in particular, turned to me and put her arm around my shoulders.

"Sheesh, Alec," she whispered. "You worry too much. Mom will get us out of this."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," I whispered back. "I'm worried about what Mom's going to have to say when we get back."

As I said that, I realized how trivial that was in the big scheme of things. One of my closest friends was kidnapped. My boyfriend had fled to Idris because even he, the High Warlock of Brooklyn, couldn't handle all demons that had come at him.

Isabelle apparently realized it too, because she looked at me skeptically.

"And, you know, everything else," I added, kind of as an afterthought.

"Hmm," Isabelle said, and turned back to Simon. They struck up a conversation about something unimportant, and I tuned them out.

Our officer came up to me. "Hey, kid," he said, clearly speaking to me. "I need to talk to you."

I stood up, trying not to get mad about him calling me 'kid.' I was 18 after all. Legally an adult.

I followed Officer Lighen into a back room, where he shoved me into a hard, metal chair.

"So," he said, "I need some information here, kid."

"Whatever you need, Officer," I said, trying really, really hard to keep sarcasm out of my voice. I fought the urge to laugh as I thought about what Jace would have said in my situation. No doubt he would have said something wittily sarcastic and the officer would have ended up trying to arrest him. Thank god he wasn't here.

"What's your name?"

Without even thinking, I answered. "Alec Lightwood." Then I realized just how stupid that was of me. I was legally registered of course. The American government knew I existed, but I wouldn't be registered in any school. As far as they knew, I didn't even have a home. Which the cop would soon find out.

"Short for anything?"

I thought about lying, but it was too late now. I had to just give him the real information. "Alexander."

"And those two?" He gestured towards to the room we had come from. The room Simon and Isabelle were in.

I sighed, and thought again about whether I should tell him the truth. Apparently I thought too long, because he growled at me, "Answer, kid."

"Isabelle Lightwood," I said. "My sister."

"And the boy?"

"Family friend," I told him, "Simon."

"Last name?"

I realized two things in that moment. One, I didn't actually remember Simon's last name. Something with an L? Levy? Something like that?

And two, Simon had actually been ditching school. They could prove that and get him in major trouble. He was actually registered at a High School and here and if they knew his last name they could call his parents and everything. Which would be very, very bad.

I heard a beeping sound from the other room, like the sound companies play when someone opens the door. The door slammed shut and the sound of a woman in high heels clicked across the floor. A very familiar voice spoke.

"I am here to pick up my children."

Mom. Thank god. Officer Lighen jumped to his feet, clearly ready to do some work. "Come with me, kid."

I walked out into the main room. My mom stood at the counter, looking tired and clearly wanting to be anywhere but here. She looked at me sternly, but her expression softened slightly when she saw by my face that being at the police station wasn't the only thing wrong.

"Alec, honey," she said, coming over and wrapping me in a hug. She was the perfect height that her head rested right on my shoulder, ideal for whispering in someone's ear without anyone noticing. "What's going on?"

I shook my head slightly and leaned down to whisper back. "Later. Let's just get out of here."

She nodded and let go. Turning to the officers, she said, "Okay, what seems to be the problem here?"

Officer Lighen spoke up. "These three were clearly ditching school."

"School?" she asked, as though it were ridiculous. "They don't attend school. Alec has graduated already."

"And the other two?" he asked, trying to sound superior over my mom's attitude.

"Isabelle and Simon are home-schooled."

"Then why did they say they were taken out of school for a family emergency?"

Uh-oh. Mom didn't know our cover story, so she couldn't work with it. This was bad… I hoped she would figure it out. But at the same time, I tried to slink back to sit in the chairs again, far away from her. Isabelle directed my arm to chair, so that my eyes never had to leave the situation.

"Well, obviously they were," she said without missing a beat. "Simon and Isabelle were over at their tutor's house. I sent Alec to go get them."

"You just said they were home-schooled."

She gave him the evil eye. "Clearly, your children are not home-schooled. Many children have a tutor who assists their parents. Now, release these kids. There really is a family emergency."

The officer looked totally defeated. "Fine. But if I see them standing outside of nowhere again, I won't hesitate to bring them in."

"And no doubt they will have a legitimate reason again. Find something better to do, won't you? We live in New York City, there must be real crime somewhere."

And with that, Mom swept out of the room, Isabelle, Simon and I following in her wake.

* * *

"So," Mom said. "Let's have it."

She, Isabelle, Dad, and I were sitting in the library. Simon had been sent to Luke's house to chill out and try to calm Jocelyn down. Luke was trying to see if tracking any of Clary's stuff would work, probably with no avail.

"Well…" Isabelle said. We didn't really know what to say. How do you explain a week's events like that to your parents.

"Let's start at the beginning," Dad said. "Where, exactly, is Jace?"

'Um, well, _exactly_," I said, "we don't know. But he's probably somewhere in LA."

"And why on Earth is he in Los Angeles?" Mom asked.

"Erm…"

Isabelle cut in. "Clary was kidnapped."

"WHAT?" Mom yelled.

"She came over on Monday, and was taken."

"Okay, whole story please," Dad said.

And so Isabelle and I told the whole story. How Clary had come over and Jocelyn had called, and then Clary had never made it home. Trying to find Magnus, failing. Trying to track Clary, using Jace. Jace flying off in the middle of the night, Isabelle finding his ticket. Then going to tell Simon, coming back and finding me outside, and then the officer deciding we needed to be taken into the police station.

"Good Lord," Mom said, collapsing into a chair. "Why does everything happen when we're away?"

I shook my head. "No idea."

"Well, first things first," she said, "how are we going to get to Clary?"

"We're flying," I said, "Friday morning."

"Hmmm…" Dad said. "No quicker way to get there?"

"Not that we can find."

"I see…" Mom said. "Well, here kids. You stay here. Train, collect weapons, it doesn't really matter. We're going to go talk to Jocelyn and Luke."

They left, and Isabelle and I just stared each other, wondering why, when we'd been here when it all happened, we were still left feeling like the useless little kids. Just getting in the way.


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: Holy long chapters and me. I actually broke 2000 words on this one. Jeez. **

**This is actually first time I've ever really written action, so I hope you guys like it. It was more fun than I had expected. Because it's CLIMAX TIME!  
**

_**Jay-bird95 Tomboy Amy BlazingWolfFire, **_**and**_** Azalee Charlin, **_**thank you for your reviews! Love all commentary and even just you guys telling me that you're enjoying the story. :D  
**

**But, anyway, read on.

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**Jace:**

"Hey, kid!" a voice called. I jerked awake and was instantly on my feet, facing the guy. My hand flew to my belt to pull out a seraph blade.

"Whoa," the guy said. He looked like your traditional loser. He was maybe 5'11", pretty hefty, and not in a good way. He was balding, a few strands of light brown hair left on the sides of his head. He held out his hands in the universal "whoa, hold on there," gesture.

"Hey," he said, evidentially trying to look friendly, "I just wanted to warn you that you should know better than to hang out in a dark alley at this time of day."

I walked towards him, the blade limp in my hand, but still fairly threatening to a mundane. "Well," I said, "as you can hopefully see, I'm pretty capable of taking care of myself." I brandished the blade in his face, suspicious.

"Whoa, chill," he said. "My mistake."

"Hmm," I replied, raising my eyebrows and flicking a piece of dust off of the blade. He back up slowly and then turned and ran, and I decided he really had just been some mundane, either hoping to be helpful or to shoot me. Who knew? Face it, who really cared?

I turned and worked through my plan again. I would find the pothole I had seen last night. Through it, somewhere, was Clary. I was so, so close. And today I would get her. Today I would save her. I had to.

I threw my backpack over my shoulders from where I'd dropped it last night. Picking up the duffle bag, I slung the weapons on my body. I tucked seraph blades into my belt, daggers into sheaths on my arms, throwing knives into padded bags in my pockets, and a heavy metal stick into its sheath across my back, behind my backpack. I threw the duffle into the backpack, which I would ditch outside of the pothole. I pulled out my stele and started drawing runes. Swiftness, bravery, strength, several unfinished _iratze_ runes, invisibility, enhanced eyesight, even for good measure I brought Clary's fearlessness rune out of the caverns of my mind and drew it on my shoulder. I slid my stele into a pocket inside of my jacket and went on the move.

I hiked up from the town to the JPL entrance following the road. A few cars were going up the hill with me. By the lab coats on the drivers, I'd say the majority of them were scientists. Finally, I reached the top. The road turned toward the parking lot, but I kept going straight, following the path I'd seen the night before. I walked along it, taking a moment to recognize that this place was truly beautiful.

Trees surrounded the path, all kinds. Oak trees, maple trees, other trees a didn't know. It created kind of a green tunnel with a dirt brown path maybe 5 feet wide in the middle. It was very picturesque, which I found very ironic, considering somewhere around here Clary was being held, undoubtedly in hellish conditions.

I came around a corner and found the pothole. It looked really weird, because it was just a random pothole out in the middle of nature. There was probably a glamour over it, but to me it looked really odd. I found a nearby tree and dumped my backpack behind it. There wasn't much in it except my duffle bag, Clary's backpack, and maybe $50 in cash, so no huge loss if anyone found it, except that they would be able to track me. I traced a rune of invisibility on it, hoping that no demon would go looking for it. I threw some leaves and branches on top it and turned me back on it, facing the pothole again.

I was so close. I could feel it in my heart. Now, when most people say that, they mean in figuratively, but I could literally feel in it my heart. When I had done the tracking spell, my heart was the part of my body that had remained with Clary. Since then, it had been stone cold, as though it wasn't there anymore. Now, it felt like it was heating up. Like that childhood game where someone picks something and then tells you if you're getting hotter or colder. And I was getting hot, really, really hot. For once, that wasn't referring to my looks.

I lifted the top off of the pothole and placed it next to the perfectly circular hole that opened up. I threw a pebble down, and it landed almost momentarily. Quickly, I lowered myself into the hole, holding onto the rim with one hand. I used the other hand to slide the lid of the pothole back on, covering all evidence of my entry. I dropped just as the lid settled in place. I landed easily, rolling silently to my feet. Obviously I was underground, in some kind of passageway. The walls were cement and curved up together into a dome-shape, finishing maybe two feet above my head. From down here, in the dim light, I couldn't see the opening, even with my sight from the rune. I glanced down on the ground, which was damp, dark brown tossed dirt. The tunnel continued in two directions, and I would have had no idea which way to go if it wasn't go one thing.

All the footsteps went in one direction: right.

I turned to my right and walked. I pulled out a seraph blade for good measure, holding it in my right hand. My left hand rested in my pocket, clamped securely around a throwing knife. I walked swiftly, turning 360's periodically to make sure no one was behind me. Oddly, the tunnel didn't have any turnoffs or forks or anything, it was just a straight path. I walked for maybe 10 minutes and then I came to a door.

I felt my heart heat up a little more, where it was almost the same temperature as the rest of my body. I assumed this meant I was the usual distance I was from her. Maybe 100 feet or so, the distance I'd become accustomed to in Idris. Through this door, somewhere close was Clary. She was waiting for me to come and save her, and so save her I would.

I opened the door and was over come with bright light. My eyes adjusted quickly to the unexpected fluorescent light. Which was lucky, because about ten seconds later, I was attacked by demons.

Five of them came at me at once, which was probably more than I could have usually handled. But this wasn't usually, this was to save Clary. I was filled with a blinding rage. These demons, these _monsters_, were the reason for this whole disaster, and, by the Angel, they were going to pay for it.

With insane hatred on my side, they were really no match for me. I whispered the blade's name, "Gabriel." It filled with the familiar light of one of my favorite weapons. I parried a blow one of the demons had thrown with the butt of the blade, and then flicked my wrist, turning the sharp edge right into the demon's heart. It flashed, and then disappeared.

Another demon came up behind me. I swung my arm back, delivering a sharp blow to the stomach. The demon doubled over and jammed my foot up and backwards into its face. It fell back and I took the opportunity to throw a couple knives at the other demons, managing to nail two of them in their hearts. Like their predecessor, they both flashed simultaneously, and then disappeared back to their respective home dimensions.

There were two left. One was behind me, fairly incapacitated. The other one in front of me had suffered a knife to the arm, and all it seemed to have done was piss him off. Fantastic.

Without turning around, I grabbed a dagger from my belt and held it at my side. I knelt quickly, the dagger flitting out behind my back. My eyes never left the other demon as I drove the blade straight home. I felt a swift breeze come from behind me, and I knew that meant that demon was also taken care of.

I laughed, realizing that I had just taken care of four demons without even being touched. But this last guy looked a little harder.

_You will not laugh when I'm through with you_ the demon growled.

"Wow," I said, "way to be totally unoriginal." I was sizing it up. There were spikes on the arms, probably poisonous. But the look of its teeth, it had a lethal bite. No tail, which was lucky, because that gave me a distinct advantage. "I've heard that one before. It never applies."

With that, the demon charged me. I blocked his blows, Gabriel remaining faithful in my hand. It threw a punch; I shoved Gabriel up to block and threw a kick at its stomach. While he took a split second to recover, I switched Gabriel to my dominant hand and grabbed another dagger in my right. Blocking another blind, wound-up punch with the dagger, I drove Gabriel straight into the demon's chest, missing his heart. Ichor sprayed all over me. I was distracted for a second as I wiped it out of my eyes. The demon took advantage, and managed to cut down my left arm, but no poison got in the wound. It was a deep wound, and the demon knew that if I couldn't fix it I wouldn't last long. The demon took a moment to celebrate, and in that moment, I shoved my dagger directly into his heart. With a huge flash of light, he disappeared.

"And that," I said using the last of my energy to remain standing, "is what happens when you mess with Jace."

I fell to the ground. The wound was deeper than I had thought, but since there was no poison in it, it would be an easy fix. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my stele.

I had never hurt my dominant arm when I was alone before, and soon discovered that finishing an _iratze_ with my right hand was a lot more difficult than I'd thought. In my frustration, random streaks ran over my arm. Finally, I gave up on the completion of one rune and just drew another, shaky one on my arm. The wound healed enough for my left hand to be usable, although the pain didn't fade, and I was able to finish one on my right shoulder.

The pain instantly left my arm and I watched it heal into just another familiar white line on my skin.

I went around the room, picking up the four throwing knives and the dagger that lay on the floor. I slid the knives back into my pocket and both of the daggers back into their sheaths. I took out one of the two seraph blades left in my belt. I didn't name it, but I wanted to be ready when the next demons inevitably came. The light of Gabriel's blade dimmed, but didn't go completely. It would be good for at least one more battle.

I continued down the hall.

* * *

I encountered no more demons in that hallway. The next hall sported two. These demons were small and winged. My throwing knives easily picked them off. I continued. Every hall sported several demons, but they were no challenge. I was filled with insane rage, and the demons had no chance against me. A simple throwing knife or a dagger to heart took them out. The seraph blades in my hands remain virtually unused.

Hallway after hallway passed. I walked past rooms, but they were all empty. Finally, I walked into what looked like a cell bank. Here, I ran into three demons. They looked considerably more powerful than anything else I'd encountered, and I was starting to get tired of this.

_You_ one spoke.

"Hi," I said. "I would say nice to meet you, but honestly it's not."

_We will kill you._

"Oh _please_. Can't any of you think of anything _original_ to say? Just for a change of pace?" And I threw myself at them. One was taken out easily when I slashed my blade Gabriel, back burning brightly, across its chest.

The other two then attacked at the same time, from either side. Thinking quickly, and do something I'd never done before, I did a jumping split scissors side kick, jumping up, shoving the heel of each of my feet into their respective faces. They fell back and I landed nimbly on my feet. As they each stood up, I jammed my two seraph blades sideways into their stomachs, then simultaneously flicked my wrists and both blade drove into their chests, the tips of the blades landing perfectly at the hearts and drenching my arms in ichor. Both demons flashed away.

I smiled to myself knowing how awesome that must have looked. I was definitely going to work that move when I got home. But now wasn't the time for that. Now I had to find Clary. My heart had been heating up this whole time, and now it was practically on fire. I walked through the cell bank, glancing quickly into each cell.

They had been designed for Downworlders, made out of silver and gold with crosses and the word "God" scribbled all over them. I was almost at the end of the row when I glanced into one cell and my heart clenched horribly. Inside the cell was what looked like a torture chair, covered in a thousand tiny, sharp needles, that were covered in blood. Human blood. But worse than that was the figure in the corner. Tiny arms were raised far above her head, chained to the wall. Thin legs were attached to the wall, straining horribly. A stomach was clenched in, a metal chain around it, making sure it couldn't move, could barely breath.

But the worst thing was that familiar head of wavy red hair.

Clary.


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Holy (insert swear word of your choice here). Intenseness! Here is the second half of your climax! I'm excited!**

**Unforunately, we all know the downside of the climax, and that's the story is coming to an end. There's one more mini-chapter from Jocelyn's point of view and then an epilogue in third person. But I really hope you guys enjoy this!  
**

**Thank you to my reviewers! _Azalee Charlin, BlazingWolfFire, PonandZi, vintage101, jay-bird95, Leopardeyes, _thank you so much for your reviews! I'm glad to know that all of you were just as pissed at Jonathon as I was. Lol. **

**Read on for more information!**

**Disclaimer: Is Cassandra Clare in High School? Does she post her stories on Fanfiction? DOES SHE?  
I thought not.  
**

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**Clary:**

At first I thought he was a hallucination. It wouldn't be the first one.

I was strung up against a wall, a feeling except pain completely from my body. The thousand mini-punctures in body that had been filled with needles for hours were beginning to scab over, which was almost making them hurt me. Now my arms had gone completely numb, my legs were strained, and I could barely breathe. I had been unconscious for hours, and since I'd awoken I'd been hallucinating constantly. All of my friends and family flashed in front me, turning into demons or dying before my eyes. My mind had lost control of my body, and I was waiting for that blackness, so inviting, to return. And then this hallucination came.

It was Jace. He was standing outside the door to my cell, and expression of pure horror on his face. He was covered in ichor and sweat and blood from pretty much head to toe but he looked so, so perfect. So beautiful. His hair framed his face tightly, as though he'd been fighting, and then running he's hands through the top while it was sweaty. But he looked so horrified. Why wasn't I thinking of him as being happy? That was the Jace I wanted to remember. The happy Jace, the Jace that had held me in his arms so many times, smiling down at me. That was my Jace.

"Clary," my hallucination Jace said. "Oh my god, Clary." He held a seraph blade in each hand, and he raised them together. Both blades glowed fiercely, as they did when the holder was suddenly overcome with emotion. The more you got into the fight, the more a seraph blade worked to your advantage. Jace had drilled that into my head, I guess it made sense that I remembered it when I was thinking of him.

His blades cut through the metal of my cell like a hot knife through butter. He ran over to me, placing a hand on my face. My skin tingled, and confusion shot through my body.

"Jace?"

"Clary, oh Clary, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"You're actually here?"

"Yes," Jace answered. "I'm here. And I'm not letting you out of my sight again."

He raised one of the glowing blades and hacked off the chains on my arms. The manacles still surrounded my writs, but my arms fell helplessly to my sides. Carefully, Jace tucked the same seraph blade on the inside of the chain around my stomach. I cried out as the chain became even tighter, cutting off my ability to breathe entirely.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Jace said over and over. He slit the chain and it fell back against the wall. My chest heaved and I felt my stomach revolt. Luckily, Jace ducked out of the way just in time as I threw up. There was nothing in my stomach, it was just bile. For the first time, I wondered how long it had been since I'd eaten. Could part of that horrible ache in my stomach be hunger? Could I even feel normal emotions anymore?

Jace was at my feet now, and the moment he cut them away from the wall, I slunk to the ground. Jace caught me and laid me carefully out on the floor in the corner, easy to protect.

"Oh Clary," he said suddenly, and grabbed me up in a tight hug. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

I looked at him, confused. "For what?"

"What?" He looked down deep into my eyes.

"What are you sorry for?"

"I should have walked you home, I should come sooner. I should have protected you. I'm so sorry."

"Jace…" I said.

"What? What is it?"

"Nothing," I said, "Never mind." My body started to rebel again as the feeling came back into it. Jace must have seen the pain clearly written out on my face. He reached one ichor-drenched hand into his jacket and pulled out his stele. He traced an _iratze _on my skin and I felt a little better. Then he reached down and brushed his lips against mine.

"Thank god you're safe," he said. And then he went back to the stele, drawing rune after rune on me. Most were _iratze_ runes, but there were others as well. Strength, swiftness, and invisibility. He was still drawing runes when a voice came from the hall.

"Oh, little girl!" I recognized Kyle's voice. Clearly he was coming to switch me to another torture machine. He was in for a big surprise.

In one fluid movement, Jace's stele was in my hand, which was gripping it tightly, and he stood over me, a deadly demon killing machine with two violently glowing seraph blades in his hands and insane rage on his face.

Kyle came around the corner and did a huge double take. He looked at Jace, clearly afraid.

"And just who exactly," Jace growled, "are you?"

Kyle regained composure. "I think a more appropriate question," he snarled back, "is who are you?"

Jace scoffed. "Fine words coming from an unarmed who-knows-what facing a Shadowhunter armed with two seraph blades."

"You don't frightening me, Jace Lightwood," Kyle said.

Jace pounced, ramming into Kyle and landing on the floor, straddling his stomach. He positioned one of the blades directly above his neck. "Maybe you should be."

Kyle swallowed nervously, and his adam's apple touched Jace's blade.

"You're going to give me answers," Jace said. "Understood?"

Kyle nodded. "Yes."

"Okay." Jace said. "First things first, who is this sick jerk that you work for?"

Kyle winced, hesitating, and Jace lowered the blade.

"Jonathon!" Kyle yelled quietly. "I work for Jonathon Morgenstern."

Jace's facial expression changed only slightly. I pulled myself up so I was leaning against the wall and could see what was happening better. My body resisted, but eventually I was sitting.

"Jonathon Morgenstern is dead," Jace spat. "I killed him myself."

"You're a Shadowhunter," Kyle said, sneering slightly. "You should know why he didn't die."

Confusion flickered briefly across Jace's face, and then I got it.

"Just tell me," Jace snarled.

"I cannot," Kyle said. "Jonathon has used runes so that I cannot."

"Runes?" Jace asked. "So you're a-"

"A Shadowhunter," Kyle answered. "Yes."

I used all of my strength to push myself onto all fours and crawl across the room to Jace's side.

"Jace," I whispered to him, "I get it."

"Tell me," he said, never taking his eyes off of Kyle.

"Demons, when you kill them, they go back to their home dimension, right? And Jonathon, he has demon blood in him."

"So?" Jace asked, clearly still confused.

"So when you killed him," I explained, "he went back to his home dimension. _Here_. This world _is _his home dimension."

Kyle nodded. "She is correct."

Jace glared down at him. "Why should I believe you?"

Kyle's eyes flitted to the blade that Jace held tightly to his neck, giving him all the answer he needed.

"So," Jace began, "tell me then, how exactly can I kill Jonathon so that he won't return this time?"

Kyle said nothing, and Jace pressed the blade against his skin. Kyle gulped, and then spoke again, speaking lightly to avoid pressing the blade any tighter against him.

"No, Jace, please," Kyle begged, "Don't. Please."

"Then tell me," Jace growled. "Tell me how he can be killed." The seraph blade was so tight to Kyle's neck and glowed with such ferocity.

I had to admit to myself that I'd never seen Jace like this before. Even that I was little afraid of him right then. He was so strong, so powerful, and so very, very angry.

Kyle choked as he struggled to get out the words. "Jonathon… his human side… only take… one death… return to home dimension… just once… then die… like human."

Jace let out a sigh of relief. I looked down at Kyle. I would have felt bad for him if he hadn't made the decision to be like this himself. I saw Jace lowering the blade, and knew he was going to kill him. It was the only way to get him out.

"Wait!" I yelled. Jace looked at me, surprised. "Wait," I said more softly. "Kyle, what about me? What's going to happen to me?"

"Nothing…" Kyle choked. "Transformation… can only take place… with permission… Jonathon wanted… you think that it was inevitable… induced pain… dreams… but nothing was changed… please… don't let him kill…"

Jace shoved the blade so close to his throat that it cut the skin. A horrible mixture flowed out. It was human blood, but black ichor was seamed through it. Kyle screamed a horrible scream, as though that one little cut was killing him. Normally, only a little blood would have come, with a wound that small. But Kyle kept bleeding and bleeding, until he literally bled to death.

Jace put down the seraph blade and watched as Kyle's body turned pale. He grabbed the man's wrist holding it and feeling for a pulse. Finally, he dropped it and turned to me. He looked at my face, which probably showed the fear I was feeling right now.

Jace reached his arms out and wrapped me in them. "Clary," he said, "I'm so sorry you had to see that. So, so sorry."

I looked at him. I felt very weak from not eating and my whole body ached from the torture, but I needed Jace more than ever.

"It had to happen," I told him. I leaned in and placed my forehead against him, our faces right next to each other. "I love you." I leaned in and kissed him.

My mind shorted out for a second, as though the pain was gone, and I felt better. Jace pulled away and smiled at me. "Let's get you out of here."

Just as he stood up and turned around, Jonathon appeared in the doorway. Jace immediately shot towards the ground, picking up his seraph blades. They glowed brightly, all Jace's hatred towards Jonathon channeling through the blades.

Jonathon's eyes landed first on me, kneeling on the floor, feeling like my legs were going to give out. Then they hit Kyle and his face fell just the slightest amount.

"So," Jonathon said, "we meet again, little brother." Little brother? They hadn't been related. But wait, Jonathon had know he was brother… oh, that made sense.

Jace scoffed. "Please. Skip the technicalities. I really just want to kill you. Again."

"Well, maybe you'll do a better job this time. If the Lightwood girl hadn't shown up the last time, you would have been dead meat."

"I'll be sure to kill you more thoroughly this time, if that's what you're asking for," Jace responded.

Both boys threw themselves at each other at the same time. Blades clanged, hands flashed, blood was spilt. I watched as the two men, one whom I loved with all my heart and the other one whom I hated just as much, fought to kill them. They slashed at each other's chests, so close and so similar in technique and appearance that the only way to tell the difference between the two was Jace's glowing blades. They flitted in and out between each other, blades crashing, sweat and blood mixing together on the floor.

I realized I needed to help. I couldn't let Jonathon win, or he would kill me. But worse than that, he would kill Jace. I stood shakily, barely keeping my balance. I clutched Jace's stele in my hand, the only weapon I had.

As I watched, the tide of the fight changed. Jonathon began to win. Jace had been fighting too much today, he was tired and Jonathon had the upper hand anyway. Within minutes, he had Jace on the floor, one foot on his stomach.

"No one to save you this time, lil' bro," Jonathon sneered. "No one's here except you and me." As an afterthought, he added, "And Clary, of course." He stuck his blade down, bringing blood at Jace's stomach.

I tried to creep over behind him. I would stab him in the back with my stele. I could do this. Just as I was about to be out of his vision, Jonathon glanced over at me.

"Oh, no you don't," he said, jumping at me. He hit my body with such a force that I was knocked easily to the ground, the same way Jonathon had trapped Jace, just moments before.

"Well now, Clary. We're back to the beginning, aren't we?" Jonathon sat straddling me, pressing a knife to my neck just as Jace had to Kyle. "No one is here to save you."

Yet even as he said this, even as he pronounced Jace incapable, good as dead, Jace rose silently to his feet. He gripped his seraph blade in his hand. It glowed so brightly that the light was blinding. I couldn't see, wasn't listening to what Jonathon was saying, just waited for the pressure on my neck to be released.

It seemed to be years. I wondered for long minutes if Jace had failed, if Jonathon really was going to kill me. But this was Jace. And he would never give up.

In one swift move, the pressure became unbearable and I felt the skin at my neck rip, and then it was gone.

The light faded, and Jace stood before me, staring at Jonathon's limp form on the ground, which looked as though it had been kicked off of my body.

Jace, seemingly using the last of his strength, spat at Jonathon.

"Didn't Valentine ever teach you never to consider an opponent done?" He glared at his form and then spat again. "Goodbye Jonathon Morgenstern," he said, voice hard. "And good riddance."

With that Jace collapsed, and I hurried to him. Ignoring the aching over my entire body and the sharp pain in my neck, I ran the stele over Jace's skin, drawing _iratze_ after _iratze_. Praying that they would work. That these runes could bring Jace back to me.

I snuggled into his arms, body filled with pain, knowing that I would probably die here, but that was okay, because I was with Jace again.

The blackness was coming, and the last thing I felt were Jace's arms coming around me, the last thing I heard was him whispering my name as I reached out to embrace it.

* * *

**AN: So? What'd ya say? Feasible? I actually came up with this idea when Jace said he wasn't sure about the Shadowhunters finding Jonathon's body. I was like OMG DEMON HOME DIMENSION AHHH. Anyway, I hope you liked it and that it made sense to everyone. :D  
**


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: Short chapter alert! Seriously though, writing from Jocelyn's point of view was a lot hard than I thought it was going to be. **

**Thank you so much to **_**jay-bird95**_**, **_**theraggles**_** and **_**ronnie00 **_**for your reviews. You guys all left great comments and thanks for your awesome advice through out the story. As always, I'd love your comments or suggestions on my writing. :D

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**

**Jocelyn:**

When our group descended on that branch of Subway, the manager looked like he was going to pass out. The group probably contained more people than he'd ever seen in his remote store before.

Luke, Alec, Mayrse, Robert, Isabelle, Simon, and I entered the door, and I immediately screamed. "Clary!" I yelled. I ran across the store to where my daughter sat embracing her in a hard hug. She looked so weak, so thin. Her hair was messy and her body filthy, but I didn't care, because she was safe.

"Mom?" she asked, voice confused. "What are you doing here?"

I pulled back from the hug, looking into her face. "We came to bring you home, honey."

Jace stood up from where he'd been sitting, across the table from her. Without thinking, I hugged him as well. "Thank you, Jace," I said. "Thank you for my daughter."

He seemed surprised at first, but then brought his arms up around my back as well. "No problem," he replied, a smile in his voice.

My opinion of him had completely changed. At first, I hadn't been sure about him at all. Raised by Valentine with all of values I had hated so much, how could he possibly be right for Clary? But this trip, this _adventure_, had shown me differently. Jace loved Clary with every molecule in his body. He'd come across the country alone, risked his life to save her. And no matter what, I knew that he had never faked it, that he really did love her. And that, sarcastic, witty attitude aside, Clary would never find a better guy for her. And so I accepted him.

I let go of the hug, and spoke to him. "Jace, I just wanted to tell you," I said, "I was wrong about you. There isn't a better boy out there for Clary."

Jace smiled. "Thank Jocelyn. That means a lot."

I shrugged and turned back to Clary. Friends surrounded her; Isabelle and Simon were hugging her tightly and Alec stood to her side, a hand on her shoulder.

Luke wrapped his arms around my waist from behind me and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "She's safe, Jocelyn. She's safe." I turned my head slightly and whispered back.

"Let's go home."

The group stood in a field, as I tried to desperately to think of Clary's Portal rune. She was too weak to do anything. She didn't speak as she stood in Jace's arms leaning on him heavily. They fit together so perfectly, Jace looked at her with such love and admiration. When I looked them, I realized that I wasn't reminded, as I thought before, of Valentine and me, but of me and Luke. Of a relationship based on love instead of lust, and actual need to be together.

I was about to give up on the rune and just tell everyone that we were going to have to fly back to New York, when a form came out of nowhere and rolled to its feet.

Magnus Bane stood in front of us. His hair was messy, and looked like the blue streaks in it needed to be re-dyed. They didn't quite reach the top of his head. His nails were painted black and he wore a sparkly jacket over a surprisingly plain shirt and jeans.

He turned to Alec first, as was expected. "You called?" he asked.

Alec smiled, relief showing through his features. "And you didn't call me back."

"Well, consider this a return call." Magnus turned to me. "You ordered a Portal, Jocelyn?"

I smiled with relief. "Please. The sooner we get Clary to the Institute the better."

Magnus snapped his fingers, and a door appeared in front of us. I watched as Jace took Clary through first, his hand never leaving her's, her needing his support just to walked.

And I realized that Clary was safe now. She was truly safe, and we had all the time in the world to be a family. We had all the time for her to gain back the weight she'd lost. All the time for her to recover, to tell the story. All the time and all the help we could need to help her with the pain. All the time in the world just to be together, the way mother and daughter are supposed to be. 


	20. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: Characters and locations belong to Cassandra Clare.  
Songs:  
Savin' Me- Nickleback  
The Little Things Give You Away- Linkin Park  
Here Comes the Sun- The Beatles

* * *

**

**Epilogue:**

Music blasted over the speakers in one of the spare bedrooms at the Institute. The song playing was "Savin' Me," by Nickleback, and Jace was on a mission to find out who was the one behind the music.

He run down the hallway, opening every door on the way, knowing instantly that it wasn't the right one. As he neared Alec's room, Alec opened the door and shot him a skeptically expression.

"Jace," he said, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Music," Jace replied simply, without stopping. Alec looked at him slightly sadly and wordlessly pointed at a door at the very end of the hall. Jace nodded quickly and thanked Alec with a smile before running down to the door and opening it without a thought.

He had assumed no one would be here, that Isabelle had simply left her iPod playing in a spare bedroom to spite him. It wouldn't have been the first time.

Boy, was he ever wrong.

For, sitting on the bed was a small figure. Hunched up, knees folded into her chest and head resting on top of them, she rocked back and forth with the music. Over its blasting, the sobbing sound was barely audible. Jace felt a direct blow to his heart as he realized, just as he had in the cell, that the figure had wavy red hair.

Without thinking, he made his way over to the bed and wrapped his arms around Clary. She froze, tensing automatically.

"Clary," Jace said, "Clary, what's wrong?"

"Oh Jace…" she said. She looked up at him; tears streaked down her beautiful face and tore at him. Jace took in her expression painfully, knowing he would do anything in the world to fix this.

He picked her hand up from where in lay on her cheek and held in tightly. Very gently, he pulled Clary to her feet. Placing both of his hands on either side of her face, he looked deep into her eyes. To his surprise, Clary burst into tears again.

"Clary," he begged. "Please. Please tell me what's wrong. I want- no, I need to help you." If it was possible Clary cried harder at his words.

Jace wrapped his arms around her back and crushed her into his chest, bringing her as close as he could. "Is it pain?" he asked. "Does it hurt? Did we miss something? Did he hurt you somewhere else?"

After a moment, Clary slowly shook her head against his chest.

Jace, desperate, asked stupid after stupid question. "Are you hungry? Do you miss Simon? Want me to call Magnus? I can get him to get you something calming." Finally, he pulled her away from his chest and looked at her face again. "Please, Clary. Tell me what's wrong. Tell me what I can do, I'll do anything."

The song roaring out of the speakers changed, and although Jace didn't know it by sound, he could tell it was Linkin Park.

Clary looked him full in the eyes and spoke, her voice wavering. "It isn't any of that Jace, just something I've been worrying about."

"Well, what is it?" he asked. "Let me help, let me fix."

"It's, well," she looked both embarrassed and terrified, which, Jace noted, made her beautiful face even more adorable. "It's just something Jonathon said. It's been bothering me."

Jace filled with rage. He hated that man more than ever now. How dare he take and torture Clary? She was his sister, and he was utterly heartless. Jace took great pleasure of the fact that he had rid the Earth of that monstrosity not once, but twice. He'd do it again in a heartbeat.

"You shouldn't listen to him," Jace said, voice slightly tight. "He was a lying, sneaking, horrible excuse for a person. You should just forget about him."

"I'm trying," Clary replied, "But I can't seem to forget this one thing he said. It's like he engrained it into my brain."

"What was it?" Jace asked. Clary didn't reply. In the silence, Jace found himself listening to music, and lyrics.

_Don't wanna reach for me, do you,_

_I mean nothing to you,_

_The little things give you away._

_But there will be no mistakin'_

_The leeves are breakin…_

And suddenly Jace got it. He sucked in a horrible breath and looked at Clary, disbelieving. "He told you that I didn't love you."

Clary's head bowed into her chest, her face full of embarrassment. A single tear slipped from her left eyes, and then both of her eyes flicked shut. Very slowly, she nodded her head.

Jace probably would have fallen over if he hadn't been holding onto Clary's shoulders. Jace placed a finger under her chin and raised her head until he was looking directly into her eyes. In a tight voice, he asked, "And why, pray, did you believe him?"

Clary's eyes flashed with an internal confusion. "I didn't think I did… but I guess I let it get to me. And then I started to wonder."

"You doubt me?" Jace asked, feeling like his heart was being ripped out of his chest and stomped on by Isabelle in her favorite high-heeled boots.

Another tear slipped out of Clary's eye and she didn't answer. Jace ran a finger over cheekbones, catching the tear. He wanted to be mad, he wanted to demand how she could possibly believe that he didn't love her after he'd risked everything to save her, and by _himself_, no less. But he couldn't be mad. Clary had been through torture and starvation, and for her to be unsure about something now was probably perfectly normal. He wouldn't put her through any more pain.

"Well," he said, "I'll make it clear then." He turned her body and then pushed her gently so that she sat on the edge of the bed. Looking at her face, Jace felt worse. She looked even more scared now. Clary thought he was mad, she was taking this the wrong way. Well, that's okay, because that was going to change in a moment.

Jace knew it was overly theatrical, but he got down on one knee like men do when they're proposing. He thought about what he was going to say as he took Clary's hands and looked straight into her eyes. And he decided that there was really only one thing to do.

"Clarissa Fray," he said, "I love you. I'll love you until I die, and if there's a life after that, I'll love you then too."

Clary's face registered shock, as she no doubt recognized the words. Jace just hoped they'd have the desired effect. But he kept going.

"Clary, I love you. I love you so much that in everything I do I wish you were doing it with me. Everything I think about every moment I'm away from you is the next time I get to see your face, hear your voice, hold you in my arms. My whole existence, every moment of every day, is focused around you."

* * *

Clary sucked in an astonished breath. How was in possible that Jace, sarcastic, witty Jace, could turn around and say something so breathtakingly beautiful?

A huge weight lifted from her shoulders. She hadn't realized that was bothering her until she got home, but she hadn't realized how much it was digging into her until Jace had lifted the burden.

Clary knew she couldn't say something that amazing in return, so instead she pulled Jace to his feet and threw herself into him. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pulled herself into his chest, getting as close to him as physically possible.

Jace's arms came up around her waist. He gently ran one hand up and down her back, and Clary shivered at the joy of his touched. She reached up and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I love you, Jace," she whispered, but after what he had said her words seemed so inadequate. "I love you so much that my worst nightmare, the one Jonathon used against me, is something happening to you."

She felt Jace's hand freeze on her back, and then try to push her even closer into him. Clary pulled back, wanting to see Jace's face right then more than anything. His eyes were closed, an expression of pure happiness with just the slightest bit of surprise coloring his features.

The song on the iHome changed, and Clary instantly recognized Here Comes the Sun by the Beatles. Jace's eyes opened and he smiled. He took one of Clary's hands in his and rested the other on her hip. Clary, realizing what he was doing, reached up and placed her hand on his shoulder. Jace led, turning them on the spot to the beat of the music. Clary looked up at his face and lost herself in his eyes.

They danced the song together, just enjoying the feel of each other's hands in their own. As the song went on, Clary wanted more than anything to kiss Jace, but she didn't want to break the beautiful moment.

She knew, in those moments, that all her worrying had been for nothing. She would never again doubt that Jace loved her, because he did. And she loved him back every bit as much. She _needed_ him every bit as much. She wanted to spend every moment with him, every moment of the rest of her life just like this one.

And she felt it leave, that horrible feeling of pain and hatred mixed into her that had been there since that first dream she'd had.

The song ended, and Jace swept her down like men in movies. He leaned over her and granted her wish. Jace kissed her, setting her whole body on fire and making her feel happier than she had for a long time.

* * *

That evening, everyone sat around the fire at the Institute, just talking. They were waiting for their last member. Jocelyn and Luke sat on one couch. They held hands and Jocelyn leaned against Luke's shoulder, a true smile covering her face and happiness lighting up her features. Mayrse and Robert sat on the other end of the couch, Robert's arm around her shoulder. Simon and Isabelle sat on the floor between the two couples, as close as they could get to each other without actually sitting on the same space. Alec and Magnus sat on one loveseat, heads leaning against each other, eyes closed. Jace sat on the other loveseat, eyes waiting expectantly.

Clary appeared in the doorway and stood there for a moment, taking in the sight. She saw here all her friends, her family, everyone that mattered to her. They were all happy just to be together, and Clary was never happier to see them.

She walked into the room and took her spot on the loveseat beside Jace. Their hands joined automatically and she looked deep into his eyes. Then she leaned back, relaxing against the couch and Jace.

She looked around the room again, knowing that nothing in the world could make her happier than the nine people sitting around her now. And she said the only thing that seemed fitting, a universal statement, spoken to each and every one of them equally.

"I love you."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Oh my god, it's over. I mean it's actually over. I'm done. I finished a story. **

**So there you have it. I hope you enjoyed my story. I really enjoyed writing it and thought it was an awesome experience to actually write something long and finish it. I feel like my writing improved a lot and I learned loads about characters and plot and writers' block. I have a new appreciation for authors, books, and other fanfiction writers. **

**If you haven't written a long story such as this one, I would highly recommend it. You'll learn a lot about writing and yourself and hopefully have fun too. I know I did. I taught myself to write things I'd never written before and how to make people enjoy what you write. I learned that if you don't know what's going to happen, you often have to go back and change things that happened in past. Even if you do know, it doesn't always turn out exactly that way. **

**Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this story, and hopefully I'll write more in the future. **

**One final thank you to _all_ of my reviewers. I don't care what chapter you reviewed on or even if you only reviewed once and then stopped reading, you guys are the reason why I'm writing this. Without the encouragement of reviews, I know I never would have finished this story. So thank you all for everything you've made me do and forced to teach myself. I owe each and everyone one of you. And so I know it doesn't mean much, but I dedicate this story to everyone who has reviewed. **

**Speaking of reviews, we have one last round. Everyone who reviewed on Ch. 19. I won't be changing this for future reviews or people who review the epilogue, so this is your final thanks. :)**

_**theraggles, ronnie00, Leopardeyes, Tomboy Amy, Jace&clary4eva (), BlazingWolfFire, -LifeLessWords-, jay-bird95, perdyprincess, **_**and**_** Fantasy-Phantom101, **_**thank you guys for your awesome reviews and votes for the epilogue. Somehow, that poll never did make it to my profile, so it was your reviews that brought this final chapter. **

**Thank you everyone for your encouragement and reading the story. I really hope you enjoyed it.**

**Sincerely,**

**Sofi (aka Bookaholic711)  
**


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